


The Will to Fight

by MorgothII



Series: Tales of an American Magus [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Character Death, Character Development, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Mordred is best Saber, Mostly cause Mordred and Jalter, Romance, Some adult language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 68
Words: 269,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorgothII/pseuds/MorgothII
Summary: Jacob Aronson, a Magus from America, was selected to join the other Forty-Eight Master Candidates at Chaldea. After a major accident, he finds himself as one of the two remaining Master Candidates of Chaldea, and summons as rebellious knight as his first Servant. Join Jacob and Ritsuka as they fight to save humanity, and show the will to fight on.
Relationships: Male Fujimaru Ritsuka/Mash Kyrielight | Shielder, Orginal Male Character/Mordred | Saber of Red
Series: Tales of an American Magus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917064
Comments: 789
Kudos: 160





	1. Off with a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I have been playing FGO for a bit, and decided to write my own story after being a fan of the Fate series for years. I plan on doing my best with accurately portraying the amazing personalities and all of the Servants. Some of the dialogue is the same form the game, though that won't always be the case both for Singularity F and for future ones as well, especially future ones.

With trembling hands, I adjust my baseball hat, indirectly ruffling up my messy brown hair. “Master Candidate Forty-Nine, Jacob Aronson, reporting,” I said nervously. The guard before the entrance to the main hall of the building built in the heights of Antarctica examines my face and what are my credentials that had been provided before I had arrived by the Clock Tower.

“ID confirmed. Welcome to Chaldea’s headquarters. You will be directed to the briefing area for the director’s speech,” she said with an almost bored expression on her face. I mutter a thank you to her and proceed inside, my mind awhirl with thoughts.

Master Candidate for Chaldea. I was one of forty-nine Magi that had been picked to join what was described as ensuring the continuation of humanity. Thirty-eight of the were members of noble Magi families. Ten were civilians who were chosen for their potential. Then there was me, the only American Magus in the program. Though, to be fair, there were very few (almost none) aside from my family tree, American Magus. The only reason why I was a Magus was because my family had left England in the 19th Century, who had a tradition of just letting themselves follow their own paths, having never developed a true Crest. It was a different kind of Magus family, but at least for me, it was a good one.

I had found out about it when a friend of mine recommended me for reasons beyond me. Officially, I was a late volunteer. Unofficially, it was because of my apparently high concentration of Magic Circuits, or so I had been told. Regardless, they gave me good reasons to agree to partake in Chaldea’s project. Promises of financial compensation and paying for the tuition for my choice of university, or even the famed Clock Tower, upon completion of all necessary requirements that Chaldea would have need of me.

For someone who was about to start college anyway but would have to deal with a large amount of debt, it seemed like a dream come true. I was now starting to wonder, though, if it would have been easier to just deal with debt.

After agreeing to join, I had to try out something called a Spiritron Drive and experienced a simulated battle with Servants. Having passed that, I was told about the mission in terms that were only slightly less vague. Something about changes in the past threatening the future of mankind. Even for someone who was a Magus, this seemed a bit far-fetched.

Before I fully realize it, my body on auto-pilot mode had brought me to the room I was supposed to have gone to. In addition to about almost fifty seats, there is some sort of experimental-looking computer and display, along with fifty or so coffin-like devices on either side of the wall.

With almost all the seats taken, I opt for the one near the back. Just as I sit down, a young female magus with white hair and an orange-and-black color scheme enters. Unless I am mistaken, this is Director Olga Marie Animusphere, my new boss. She observes the room with a calculated gaze, and opens her mouth to speak when three more people walk in. A ridiculous-looking man wearing a fur coat and a hat, a girl with pink hair and purple eyes, and a young Japanese Magus, who looks to me like he is more asleep than awake. After the first two briefly talk to the director, she frowned and pursed her lips before dismissing them as the final Master Candidate takes the last available seat in the front row.

The room goes quiet as Director Animusphere begins to describe Chaldea’s mission. How, using a new mixture of science and magic, teams would be sent back to various points of time to find and fix any irregularities that threaten the future of mankind. My attention was split between the director and the sleepy Magus, who was fighting desperately to stay awake. However, he finally gives in, and soon begins to snore rather loudly while the director is still speaking. Even from where I am seated, I can tell she is furious as she stomps over to the offender, blissfully unaware of what he had just caused for himself.

Director Animusphere looked like she was about to dropkick the sleepy Magus out of the room. Fortunately, she instead opts to slap him before telling the girl who had brought him in to get him out of here, and that he was not going to partake in this mission.

The next half-hour or so passes by slowly, as the director explained further how Chaldea would be conducting operations. How we would be broken up into teams, and that I was to be part of the secondary team.

“According to the data we have acquired, the singularity we will be dealing with today occurred in 2004 AD. The location is a town called Fuyuki City. Team A will Rayshift in first, and we shall proceed from there. In the meantime, all Master Candidates who are present will be entering the Coffins, a device to allow for its occupant to safely Rayshift. Are there any questions?”

I reluctantly raise my hand. “Yes?”

“Where are the restrooms?” I ask, trying to not show the embarrassment I feel as I hear the inevitable snickering. Director Animusphere gives me an expression which screams the phrase, _‘are you kidding me?!?’_ before answering with a sigh.

“Go back out into the main hall, and the men’s room is three doors down from here. When you have finished, return here. Does anyone else have to use the restroom, or did they make sure to have taken care of such issues before we started the briefing?” Animusphere pointedly asked with an arched eyebrow.

Before I could be subjected to further ridicule, at least to my face that is, I swiftly walk out of the room to find the bathroom, which thankfully is exactly where it should be. I try to take care of nature’s call as quickly as possible.

As I was washing my hands, I suddenly find myself thrown to the ground, ears ringing. Smoke started to filter into the bathroom. “What the…?” I groaned as I pushed myself up, grabbing the counter to support my body as I did so. There was a warm, somewhat sticky feeling on the right side of my head. I pressed a hand against it, feeling something liquid-like, and bring my palm to my face. My eyes widen slightly at the dark crimson blood, _my_ blood, dripping.

As my hearing returned, I suddenly notice the wailing siren. “What the hell is going on?” I muttered as I stumbled slightly into the hallway. “Oh no…” I gasped, seeing the inferno that was once the Rayshift chamber. The director…the other master candidates…

Then the boy from earlier runs by, heading into the fire.

“Shit!” I cursed as I ran after him. “Kid, what are you doing?” I shouted, trying to get his attention as his form started to become obscured by the smoke. I raised my right arm to cover my mouth and nose as I forge on. I’m not letting him die.

I hear him shout, and I headed towards the source. The boy, whose name I cannot remember for the life of me, is trying to lift a large piece of rubble off of the pink-haired girl who had come into the room with him earlier. “We gotta hurry,” I said as I ran to the other side of the rubble, trying to help him out. I strain my muscles as I try to push the debris up off her legs, ignoring the automated voices and a sudden red glow.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” my fellow Magus said as he tries to comfort the badly-injuried girl. Sweat starts to drip into my eyes, the salt burning slightly as I continue in vain to free the pinned girl from what is rapidly turning out to be her tomb.

It is then that I feel a weird sensation of my body as a garbled voice starts to countdown, saying something about having found viable forms to Rayshift or something. The last thing I hear before a darkness embraces my vision was a rather heart-breaking request from the girl for the other lad to hold her hand.

Then nothing.

I slowly opened my eyes, groaning in pain. From the way my back is feeling, I’m laying down on something rough and somewhat broken. I prop my body upwards with my elbows into an upright seated position and look around.

* * *

Fire.

Fire was everywhere. It was a war zone. The entire city was burning, and there seemed to be no sign of life anywhere. Not even the two people I had been with before the Rayshift occurred. Am I going to be trapped here until I starve? I took a deep breath, calming myself down.

A shrill scream breaks the dead silence. I spun around, my eyes narrowed. It might be one of the others who were supposed to have been Rayshifted! I looked around quickly, finding a decent-sized piece of rebar sticking out of some rubble by the remains of one of the buildings. I picked it up and gave an experiment swing. “It’s no sword, but this should do,” I mutter to myself as I now sprint to the source of the scream.

When I arrive, I see a panicking Olga Marie backing away from about a half-dozen reanimated skeletons, all armed with crude weapons. I run forward, preparing my weapon to be swung as I call out. “Director! Behind you!”

The white-haired magus spins around, orange eyes widening as she steps to the side to avoid being knocked over by my body. “Aronson?!? What are you-“ Director Animusphere started to ask as I ran past her. Before she can finish asking her question, however, I swung my club at the skull of the lead skeleton. The metal end, still coated by a healthy amount of concrete, slams into the bleached bone and shatters it. I don’t have time to celebrate this, however, and I pivot my upper torso slightly to smash the side of the skull of another skeleton. Behind me, I hear more footsteps, and the director calling out.

“Y-you two! What in the world is going on here?”

Then, a large, black metal object slams into one of the skeletons, flinging the undead enemy backwards into a second one. A second and third strike deal with the last two skeletons with ease. A soft, feminine voice speaks up.

“Are you ok?” It’s the girl we tried to rescue earlier. Instead of an almost schoolgirl outfit, however, she is dressed in black armor with purple highlights. Her shoulders, legs, and midriff are exposed, and her right hand holds a shield that is shaped like a cross and is taller than her.

“Confused as hell, but alive. Good to see that the same can be said for you and the other guy.”

“You mean Fujimaru Senpai?”

“That’s his last name? Good to know. We can all exchange proper introductions later, though I would like to know your name.” So that I don’t keep referring to her as ‘the girl’.

“Agreed, and it’s Mash” she replied, before turning to the director and Fujimaru. “The battle is over. Are you alright director?”

“…what’s going on?” I sigh softly, shaking my head. That’s the million-dollar question right now, isn’t it?

“Director? About my situation. I know it’s hard to believe, but the truth is-“ Mash began before Director Animusphere interrupts her.

“A demi-servant, right?” ‘ _A what-now?’_ “It’s pretty obvious that you fused with a Servant.” _’You can do that?!?!?’_ “What I want to know is why it’s successful now all of a sudden! Enough of that. You!” She shouted, stabbing a finger towards Fujimaru. “The civilian who showed up late to my speech!”

“Huh?!” _‘I feel you_ ,’ I think to myself.

“How did you become a Master? Only first-class Mages can enter contracts with Servants! There’s no way you could ever become a Master! What did you do to her to have her do your bidding?” She demanded, her face red with anger. I step forward between the two parties.

“You are way off base!” Fujimaru responded before I spoke up.

“Ok, ok, ok! That’s enough! Something clearly has gone wrong back at Chaldea. We should re-establish communications with Chaldea after we get to that Leyline. We’re not doing _this_ ,” I emphasized by pointing at the fuming director and the offended youth. “We are not going to do this. We are not going to go bouncing off the walls for ten minutes!” I growl. I take a deep breath. Gotta keep it together.

“Look, Director Animusphere, with all due respect, he is correct about you going too far. He was chosen for the program, just like me. I am sure this is a misunderstanding, right Mash?” Mash nodded her head to confirm my statement.

“He’s correct. I’m actually the one who forced the contract.”

“What did you say?” Director Animusphere asked, sharing the confusion I have been having. Thankfully, Mash takes the next few minutes to explain all that has happened during the Rayshift. I took yet another deep breath before exhaling through my nose slowly.

“No other Master candidates shifted with us. You and Jacob are the only two humans we’ve run into, Director. But that gives me hope. If you’re here, that means there must be other candidates who got teleported here..” Mash finished explaining. For the briefest of moments, I felt a faint glimmer of hope. That whatever the hell happened only minutes ago, or so it felt at least, in Chaldea wasn’t doomed despite the fires and explosion. The look of hesitation on Animusphere told me that it would have been better for that hope to have never been kindled.

“…There aren’t, actually. That’s one of the few things I am certain about in this situation.”

“Then why are we,” I gesture at our small group, “here?”

“I have an idea,” Director Animusphere admitted. “We all share a common denominator it seems. None of the four of us were inside the Coffins. While Rayshifting flesh and blood is dangerous, it’s not impossible for it to succeed. Meanwhile, Chaldea’s systems must have gotten readings for the Coffins that their chances of successfully Rayshifting their occupants were below 95%. The breakers installed would have then cut off all power, aborting the attempt in order to save the occupants.”

“Meaning we’re essentially on our own?” I asked.

“Correct.”

“I see,” Mash said. “That’s why you’re the director.”

“You can be reliable when you’re calm, I see,” I heard Fujimaru mutter under his breath. Unfortunately, it didn’t go unheard. The director visibly bristles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!? Are you saying I’m not usually calm?” Animusphere demanded. “Hmmph, whatever,” she said, crossing her arms as she glares at my colleague. “I understand the situation now. Fujimaru, since it’s an emergency, I’ll approve you and Kyrielight’s contract,” she admitted grudgingly. “From here on out, you’ll follow my commands.” Animusphere paused before suddenly turning to me, jabbing a finger at me.

“And you! Aronson, I believe. What the hell were you thinking?”

“That someone was in trouble and that I should help?”

“T-that’s not the point! We have to presume that we now have only one master and one potential master active in this Singularity! Chaldea cannot afford the loss of either of you! We’re going to that Leyline, you are going to summon a servant, and you will not go charging into any more battles like that! Am I understood?”

“Crystal clear, Director Animusphere,” I replied, forcing myself to not shout back. Yes, she had a point, but it wasn’t like I had too many options at the moment.

“Now that we have those matters settled, let’s focus. First, we need to set up a base camp. That means that this is the time for us to fin a Leyline Terminal. From there, we’ll be able to contact Chaldea. So in this town’s case..” Director Animusphere started to say before Mash interrupted with a polite cough.

“This is the point, Director. The Ley point is at your feet.” Animusphere’s face expression becomes flustered.

“What? Oh, r-right, I knew that, I knew that, of course!” I resisted the urge to shake my head or roll my eyes. “Mash, place your shield on the ground. I’m going to set up a summoning circle for Jacob, using your Noble Phantasm as the catalyst,” she explained. Mash turns to Fujimaru.

“…So she says. Are you all right with that, Senpai?” She asked her Master. He shrugs.

“Sure, go ahead and do it,” he said. Mash nods, her expression becoming a resolute one.

“…Understood. Now, let’s begin,” Mash said to the director, placing her massive shield on the ground where the Magus had been standing while lecturing at us only moments ago.

While the two girls are working, I place my free hand lightly on Fujimaru’s shoulder. He jumps slightly, but I quickly speak. “Glad you are alive. Both of you,” I said, nodding at Mash’s form. “We should introduce each other quickly, seeing as we may be working together for some time after this. I’m Jacob. Jacob Aronson.” I remove my hand from his shoulder and then offer it to him.

“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” Ritsuka introduces himself, accepting the handshake offer.

“Nice to meet you. That was very brave of you, risking your life for someone I assume you had only just met. I look forward to working alongside you.” I release my grip as the area around us begins to shift. I let out a low whistle, amazed at what I am beholding.

“This is…the same as the summoning experiment chamber at Chaldea,” Mash said, sharing in our awe. Before Animusphere can reply, a beeping sound is heard. I turn to Fujimaru as a fuzzy holographic display of a man in doctor clothing appears.

“CQ, CQ. Hello, hello? Okay, the connection’s back!” The man says, relief plain in his voice. “Good job, you secured the connection. Now we can communicate again, and even send rations..”

“Huh?!?” Animusphere interrupted, an incredulous expression with a tint of worry and confusion on her face. “Why are you running the show, Romani? What about Lev? Where’s Lev? Put Lev on!” I let out another mental sigh, tuning out the apparent vaudeville.

At least one person from Chaldea is ok. That’s good. That’s great actually. That means that surely some of the other Master candidates are ok.

“Less than 20 survivors?” Olga Marie Animusphere’s question grabs my attention, her brow furled in worry. “What about the Master candidates…the Coffins?” She asked. Romani paused for a moment before answering. A sinking feeling in my gut forms.

“…Forty-seven, all in critical condition and we’re short on medical supplies. We might be able to save a few, but all of them might be-“

“Don’t be ridiculous! Cryopreserve them immediately! Think about reviving them later. Your top priority is to make sure that they don’t die!” Director Animusphere ordered, acting like she should. A leader capable of making the tough choices on her own.

“Consider it done!” Romani responded

“Cryopreservation without prior consent is a crime,” Mash stated, possibly to make sure that her Master and I were aware of what the director just did. “Yet you made the decision right away, putting human lives before maintaining your reputation as the director for Chaldea.” A look of respect glimmers in Mash’s purple eyes, a sentiment that I also feel.

“Don’t be stupid,” the director snapped. “As long as they’re not dead, I can explain myself later. Why else? In the first place, forty-seven lives…there’s no way I can carry such a burden.” An expression I am all too familiar with appears on the director’s face as she bit her lower lip slightly. She appears to be saying something else to herself. I try to see if I can hear what it is, but to no avail. What I do notice is that she seems to be trying her best to keep her head above water.

Thankfully, the awkward moment is broken once Romani returned. He proceeds to deliver a report on the status of Chaldea since the explosion. 80% of the facility’s functionality has been lost along with all but twenty or so other staff members. Repairs had begun on fixing the Rayshift machinery while stabilizing both Chaldea and Sheba.

“Good. That’s exactly what I would have done if I were there. As much as I hate the very thought of it, I am entrusting you to run Chaldea as Acting Director Romani Archaman, until I get back,” the director said grudgingly. “Your top priority is to complete the Rayshift repairs necessary. Seeing as there is not other option, we will take care of solving Singularity F.”

“Director, you’re not afraid of being at ground zero? Since when did you become so brave?” Wow, Romani. I know that things are tough, and that I barely know you, but that was one of the last things you should have possibly thought about saying. The fact that Director Animusphere’s teeth were gritting together reinforces my opinion.

“Seriously, you don’t know when to shut up. As you just reported, until the Rayshift repairs are completed, we can’t leave. This is the _only_ feasible option, regardless of if I want to be in the middle of it or not. Besides, it seems that this town has only low-level monsters. With Mash as a Demi-Servant, and the Servant that Master Candidate Aronson is about to summon, we’ll be completely safe,” she said confidently. God, I hope you are right, and didn’t just jinx us.

“Accident or not, we Animuspheres pride ourselves on doing our best in the situations we’re given. I’ll be looking into Singularity F with Fujimaru Ritsuka, Mash Kyrielight, and Jacob Aronson as investigators. With that being said, since my field staff is inexperienced, the extent of this mission will be to discover the cause of this anomaly. Analysis and eradication will have to wait until after Chaldea’s restored, and I can send in a second team. Is that understood?’

“Just discovery?” I asked, nervous. Aside from not dying, this day hasn’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows. That’s not to say that I am upset at only being scouts essentially. Rather, I am worried about if that will be what actually happens. Director Animusphere doesn’t respond to my question.

“Roger that. Best of luck to you, Director. We can communicate in short bursts. Feel free to contact me in an emergency,” Romani said. I scoff quietly, a sentiment that the director clearly shares with me.

“Ha! Even if we sent out a distress call to you, there’s nobody who could be sent to our rescue,” she muttered. Apparently, I was the only one to have heard her clearly, as a puzzled expression appears on the acting director’s face.

“Director?”

“Nothing, I’m cutting off the connection so Aronson can summon his Servant. Go do your job,” Director Animusphere instructed before ending the call.

“Are you sure this is the only option, Director? It appears we have the option of holding here while waiting for our rescue.”

“I can’t afford to do that,” the director responded, shaking her head slightly. “After we return to Chaldea, who knows how long it will take to select the next team? That would be over a month before we could even possibly have acquired anywhere near the proper amount of either personal or funds. In the meantime, I will still have to deal with the Association. Do you have any idea of how much they will be harassing me?” Animusphere threw her hands up into the air in exasperation as she continued her rant. “Worst case scenario, they will blame me for mismanagement and take Chaldea away from me. If that happens, I’d be toast. I can’t go back empty-handed. I need something that will shut them up!” She shouted. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, the white-haired Magus turns to me.

“Sorry. Let’s summon your Servant, Aronson. Do you remember the chant?” I swallow the lump in my throat as I nod my head. Stay calm, Jacob. You can do this. “Good. Fujimaru, step back. Kyrielight, leave your shield there in the summoning circle. Good luck, Aronson.”

I take in a deep breath, standing alone in the chamber. I can do this. No, I _will_ do this, and succeed. I will not let myself down! I begin to chant. I speak slowly and carefully.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let the will to fight all be the tribute I pay. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close…” As I continue to chant the first half, with my own little addition I had found when reading about summoning rituals, rings of magical energy appear, three to be precise. They begin to spin slowly at first, then faster and faster. White lighting tinged with what appears to be gold dust starts to appear, as a burning sensation erupts against the back of my outstretched right hand. I don’t falter however, as I approach the second half.

“Heed my words! My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny! If you heed the Grail’s call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I will be all the good in the world. That I shall defeat all evil in the world!” The burning sensation becomes a bit more intense as an arcane set of patterns begins to form. Command Seals. White light causes me to squint fiercely as the circles spin faster, the summoning circle radiant in brightness.

“Seventh heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!” I finished, closing my eyes as the light seems to consume all before me. Then, the light fades, and I feel the presence of someone before me. I did it!

I slowly open my eyes to see the form of an armored knight, their silver armor trimmed with bright red markings. With the tip pointed towards the ground, a massive sword with a similar color scheme as the armor denotes that almost certain possibility that whoever I summoned belongs to the Saber class.

I gaze at the horned helmet covering the face as they speak.

“I am Saber, name’s Mordred. I ask this of you. Are you my Master?”


	2. Friends and Foes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanna first give a big thank you to Wentin82, Majesticid, MCUhistorian, and guest for giving me kudos for this story, as well as the people who have subscribed to follow this story. I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and thank you for your support.
> 
> Now, in regards to this chapter, sorry if Mordred is not given enough dialogue in this chapter, but trust me, she is going to be a major character. It's just a bit awkward for me with how FGO scripted Singularity F and deciding what stuff that is not needed or could be just briefly mentioned and whatnot

“I am Saber, name’s Mordred. I ask this of you. Are you my Master?”

I nod, fighting down the urge to holler in excitement. I mean, sure, this isn’t the end of a life or death situation, but I did it! I summoned a Servant!

“Mordred, the son of Arthur Pendragon, the King of Knights?” Mash asked.

“His one and only true heir,” The armored knight responded, pride clearly evident despite the horned helmet obscuring their features. Then said object retracts, allowing for messy blonde hair that ends in a rough ponytail to fall down. I stared in amazement at green eyes as the thought finished registering in my head.

“You’re a…. girl?” I asked, before suddenly realizing my mistake. The revelation was further supported by the sudden appearance of her oversized sword pointed at my throat.

“Call me that again, and I won’t be able to stop myself,” Mordred growled, even as her voice betrayed hints of her true gender. I raised my hands quickly in surrender. Mash and Ritsuka stayed still, the former tensing her body to intervene while latter glances at a still-silent Olga Marie.

“Point received. Please forgive my slight of tongue, Sir Mordred,” I said, trying to remain calm. Humble might work…right? Mordred glowers at me for a few more seconds before finally lowering the sword.

“Tch. That’s better,” Mordred grumbled Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, but hopefully I can salvage this moment…. right?

“Let’s try this again,” I laugh a bit awkwardly, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. “I am Jacob Aronson. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said while offering my right hand. Mordred stared at the gesture for a moment before nodding her head. She then stares at Mash, and I notice her body tense slightly. However, the moment passed, and she takes in her surroundings.

“Looks like someone had one hell of a party here,” Mordred muttered, shaking her head in distaste, maybe because of all the carnage.

“How much did the Grail fill you in on what has happened?” Director Animusphere asked. Mordred shrugged in response.

“That humanity is in danger,” She said casually, as if she was talking about having gotten an undercooked steak instead of the apocalypse. The director began filling in the Saber-class servant as Ritsuka and Mash walked over to me.

“Looks like you’re going to have your hands full,” my fellow master commented. I sighed and turned to the duo. “Well, at least now I can pull my weight if we encounter anything stronger than those damn skeletons,” I said dryly, trying to maintain a front of being in good spirits.

The clatter of bones causes my expression to change to one of frustration, and I ready my makeshift club. “Looks like you spoke too soon,” Ritsuka remarked as Mash readied her shield. A clanging sound echoed in through the ruined city as my servant’s helmet reforms itself around her head, and she readies her sword.

“These are mine,” she said rather savagely for a knight, before throwing herself at the incoming skeletons. The reanimated soldiers quickly prove to be no match to the knight, and the fight is over in a matter of minutes.

“Well,” Director Animusphere huffed, arms crossed. “At least you managed to summon a powerful servant to fight for us.” I nodded in response, awed by the sheer power and ferocity being displayed before us. Then I heard the sound of bones clacking behind us, and I spin around, gripping my makeshift mace as I swing it over my head.

With a loud grunt, I swing the concrete-covered end of the rebar down onto the top of the grinning skull of the lone skeleton, smashing it. Without a head, the rest of the bones clatter limply to the ground.

“So, it seems my Master is willing to fight,” Mordred remarked casually, her sword held in a rather casual grasp. I grunt as I lower my weapon.

“I’m not going to ever be the kind of person to lay down and let others do all the fighting, nor be defenseless,” I replied as I relax my body. Mordred grunted her approval in response as she walked back over to my side.

“So, Master, what do you think of my skills as a warrior?” Mordred asked with a proud smirk, her helmet retracted once more. I want to comment that for a knight, she fought more like a berserker, but I have already made one mistake already. Can’t afford another now, can I?

“That I am very lucky to have you as my Servant,” I reply truthfully. It’s irrelevant if she fights like a knight or a brute, so long as she can and will fight. It seems that I answered correctly, for her smirk becomes even wider.

“You got that damn right. I was second only to my father!” Mordred boasted.

“This is nice and all, but we should get back to finding out what has happened here,” the director said to us.

“Well, with Mash and Mordred here, this should be easy,” I said hopefully, being rewarded with a grunt of approval from the Knight of Rebellion and Treachery. Meanwhile, the Demi-Servant just blushes, further reinforcing me suspicion that she has had little if any interactions before today with people. The director rolls her eyes before she starts walk along the edge of the city.

* * *

We didn’t encounter any more resurrected skeletons as we proceed along the waterside. As we continued walking in silence, I focus my gaze on a damaged, metal bridge. In front of us, Director Animusphere stopped, her hands on her hips as she turned around, gazing sternly at my fellow Master.

“Stop. Before we start exploring the city any further, Fujimaru, isn’t there something you want to say to me?” Aminusphere. Really? _Really_? Are we really doing this right now? Apparently, we are, for God’s sake.

“No, nothing in particular. Why are you asking?” Either Ritsuka is taking the piss out of our boss, or he is extremely dense. The director blinked once before her right eye began to twitch rather violently. Behind me, I hear my Servant snicker quietly.

“…You’re not very smart, are you? Remember what happened during the briefing?” A sheepish expression slowly begins to form on Ritsuka’s face as it seems that the light is finally turning on. Mash chimed in at this point.

“Senpai, it’s probably about when you dozed off during the briefing.”

“You didn’t mention that most of your group were an aspiring comedy act,” Mordred muttered as I shake my head. The director mentioned about how she was going on about how she was going to have to essentially redo the speech when I clear my throat.

“Director Amunisphere. With all due respect, ma’am, perhaps it would be best to just simply sum up what your speech was about,” I say bluntly. Something feels wrong here.

“In this case, Aronson, you may be correct,” Animusphere sighed before relying the essentials about how something that had happened here. About how something had happened here, the creation of a Singularity in time, that threatened the survival of humanity, and that it had to be fixed to ensure that survival.

“Now that we have that issue dealt with. Very well, Fujimaru, as punishment, I am ordering you to be my bodyguard. Along with you, Aronson.” I fight down the urge to run a hand down my face in exasperation. Ritsuka does something else entirely.

“Aye-aye, oh great Director Marie!” Said director blinks a bit owlishly.

“W-what? That’s creepy. F-Flattery will get you nowhere, Fujimaru!”

“…Good to see you two getting along.” Mash, I did not know you had it in you to make a joke like that. “Let’s move before enemies show up.” I turned to my servant, rolling my eyes in annoyance. Mordred merely shook her head. Then we resume walking.

Ritsuka, Mash, Mordred and I walk behind the fuming director. I turn to the blonde knight. “Hey, Mordred, do you mind keeping pace with the director?” The Knight of Rebellion gives me a queer look before grunting and increasing her pace.

“You ok, Ritsuka?” I asked the Japanese Magus.

“I just don’t understand why she always seems to be so mad,” he replied, frustrated. Before I could offer my own theory, Mash speaks up.

“Well, I can feel some sympathy for Director Animusphere’s ill temper. I’m sorry, Ritsuka Senpai, but there’s too much about Chaldea you don’t know about.”

“Ok, well, I do admit to being clueless here,” Ritsuka said. I snort in amusement while Mash gives an expression that could almost be described as pity, shaking her head slightly.

“I really don’t know what to do with you. It’s like you’re a lost kitty. Though, it’s not like I’m any different. It’s been about two years since I started working at Chaldea myself, and I still don’t get it. I guess you could say I snuck in. Almost like an alligator.” My lip twitches a bit at that last part, trying to fight down the urge to laugh. Ritsuka starts to reply, but I tuned it out, forming my own opinion about the director.

If I had to guess, she seems like a young woman who was thrown into a position that she wasn’t truly prepared for. Thankfully, despite her words, her actions so far have indicated that she wants to do everything in her power to do what she sees to be the right thing.

“Master!”

I turn my head to look back at my Servant as several dozen more skeletons clatter forward.

“They’re behind us too!” Mash called out, causing me to turn around to see the half-dozen enemies also closing in. What these undead lack in strength, they more than make up for that with their numbers.

“Mordred, protect the director! Turn those pests to dust!” I call out.

“Understood, Master!” Mordred replied before throwing herself forward, delivering a flying kick of sorts to the lead skeleton, destroying it and causing the pieces to take down another two. At that point, I turn back to my fellow master.

“Ritsuka, get over to the director. Mash and I can handle them,” I said, raising my weapon as Mash braced herself behind her shield.

“Right!” Ritsuka agreed. Unlike Director Animusphere, it seems that my comrade understands that I am not the kind of person to just stand by and let others fight for me and not do anything. Well, either that, or he trusts that Mash will ensure that no harm comes to me. Regardless of which of those is the truth, I am thankful for the statement of implied trust.

“Ok Mash, you take the four on the right, I’ve got the two on the left.” Mash gives me an uneasy look before nodding. Grinning slightly, I charge forward to the left, as Mash lunged forward, slamming the center of her shield into the head of the lead skeleton on the right.

I slam the improvised weapon into the center of the half-covered chest. The skeleton stumbles before lifting its rusty sword. Before it can swing, I swing my club again, breaking the spinal column. A whistling sound was the only warning I got before stepping hurriedly one step to the right, as the remaining skeleton’s blade missed my body. It hits the concrete mass at the end of the rebar I am holding, and a decent-sized chunk crumbles off.

“Damn it!” I cursed as I clumsily swing it despite the close proximity of the reanimated body. However, this skeleton seemed to have at least some skill for an undead, as it parried the iron shaft with its sword. I raise my right hand, index finger extended as I focus on one of the few spells I know.

A weak Gandr bolt nails the skeleton between its empty eye sockets. For good measure, I fire a second Gandr curse at the same spot, blasting broken bone fragments away. “All enemies have been defeated here,” Mash called out at that moment, having beaten the last one of her own foes. “Jacob Senpai, are you ok?” I grunt as I lower my arm. I make a fist with my hand as I try to stop the slight trembling. Three set of footsteps from behind cause me to turn around to see the director and Ritsuka approaching us, while slightly behind the Magi is my Servant, with a bored expression on her face.

“I’m tired of dealing with all these damn skeletons. I want a challenge, not some stupid workout routine,” Mordred grumbled, her sword disappearing in a golden light as she de-summons the sword, deciding instead to cross her arms against her breastplate.

“Looks like this area is a bust. Nothing aside from skeletons and ruins. Maybe there will be something near the center of the city,” Director Animusphere said before looking at Mash’s left arm. “I see that you’ve been injured slightly,” the director comments, extending her hands. “Here, let me see it so I can heal it for you.” As she takes care of the flesh wound, I turned to Mordred.

“I am going to guess that none of those skeletons managed to even scratch your armor, huh?” I commented, wanting to break the awkward silence of the instant. The blonde knight snorts derisively.

“If that had happened, then I would be a poor excuse of a knight.”

“So, what was it like-“ Before I can finish my question, Director Animusphere speaks up.

“What do you mean, you don’t know what your Noble Phantasm is?”

“Sadly, the Heroic Spirit that bonded with me didn’t leave me with their identity. Therefore, I have no idea what kind it is, or if I even have one in the first place.”

“Hmph. Perhaps it is also because you have an inexperienced Master,” the director muttered as she gazes intently at my Servant and I. “What about your Servant?” That’s a good question. I turn to the Knight of Treachery.

“Clarent Blood Arthur,” was all she said. Even though I have only known her for a relatively short time, I have a feeling that she won’t say anything else on the matter unless she wants to. Director Animusphere’s expression relaxes ever so slightly, though not completely.

“That’s a relief to hear,” she muttered before turning to Ritsuka. “Fujimaru, once Chaldea’s Rayshift capability is restored, we’re going to shift a first-class Master to replace you. Newbies with no combat experience can spend their time terrified in some corner of Chaldea.” Director Animusphere then turned back to me with narrowed eyes. “Aronson, you can keep your contract with your Servant for now. Once Singularity F has been dealt and we are all back in Chaldea, however, there is going to be a discussion about whether you will be allowed to continue partaking in this project. You may be skilled, but you have been reckless whenever we get attacked, even after you summoned a powerful Servant to fight for you. Do you both understand?”

I nod my head, tuning out everyone else. _‘Great, even my boss doesn’t believe in me.’_ Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mordred looking up at me with an expression I’m unable to figure out. She purses her lips as if to say something when Director Animusphere resumes ordering us around.

“Now that we have that settled, let’s move on.”

* * *

The following two hours or so were spent rather quietly. We didn’t spot any skeletons as we moved deeper into the burning city. Early on we encountered only a small handful of skeleton enemies, though Mash and Mordred swept them aside with ease. Then we no longer saw any. Instead of putting me at ease, it bothers me greatly. While walking, Director Animusphere explained her theory of Singularity F being the result of an alteration of what she called the Fifth Holy Grail War, explaining the traditions of the event, and what was supposed to have happened. About how the Saber-class Servant had been the winner of the Grail, and that the city had not been destroyed in fire. At least that theory is one that both makes sense and gives us a better idea of what to possibly look for.

Finally, we stop near the remains of what might have been the remains of a church. The area seemed to have been subjected to less damage than the rest of the city. Beyond the burnt-out remains of the church seems to be the remains of some sort of cemetery, with broken tombstones.

The director stops in front of the church and turns around. “Ok, we should take a short break. Take this time to sit down and rest.” Mash and Ritsuka do so gladly. While neither of them had made any sort of complaint during the journey, they had been through a lot during the past hours. As have I. Instead of sitting, however, I remain standing, my gaze drawn to the tombstones. I’m not sure why, but something about them feels wrong. Maybe a quick closeup will calm my nerves.

“I’m going to check out that cemetery, if that is ok, Director Animusphere?” I asked respectfully. The Magus thought about it for a few seconds before shrugging.

“Just be quick about it. We shouldn’t spread ourselves out too far, or for too long if we have to do so. If you find anything, report back at once,” Animusphere declared. I grunt a thank you before shooting my Servant a questioning look, curious to see if she wanted to follow. She shakes her head before answering.

“I’ll have to pass. I’ve already had my fill with dead stuff for today.” I nod in understanding before I walk off cautiously, my piece of rebar held loosely in my hands. I shiver slightly, the feeling of being watched returning. The sheer silence, without even the popping and crackling of fire like we had been surrounded by in the city, is unnerving, unnatural.

Soon I arrive at the site. My brow furrows slightly as my eyes narrow. These are certainly not normal tombstones. Maybe pieces of debris from the church? I take a few more steps, pausing when I feel my right foot land on stone. I lift my foot up before bending down to get a closer look. It looks like the remains of a carved hand. Looking ahead, I see what looks like a life-sized leg made from stone sticking up from the ground.

“What the hell?” I mutter, starting to feel creeped out. I look to my right, seeing what from a distance looks like large tombstone monument. Carved eyes reflecting terror stare back as I straighten back up, my weapon slipping from trembling hands.

Oh god…these aren’t pieces of oddly shaped debris or tombstones. They’re people who have been turned to stone somehow! The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Someone’s here, watching us. That’s why we haven’t seen any skeletons. We must leave. Now.

“Guys, get up!” I hollered as I run back. I see Mordred jumping up to her feet, her large sword re-materializing in her hands as her helmet once more re-assembles over her head. The rest of the group look up, undoubtedly with expressions of either confusion or alarm. “There’s something or someone here!”

“Jacob! Behind you!” Ritsuka called back just as I start to hear the sound of chains rattling towards me from behind. I turn around to see a tall woman with pale pink hair and yellow eyes staring at me, holding onto the end of a long chain, the other ending attached to the hilt of a dagger or some similar sort of blade, heading straight towards me. Looking back at the pale eyes filled with malice, my body suddenly freezes, as if I were frozen in a block of ice. _‘Servant?’_ I thought dumbly as I stare ahead with wide eyes.

Everything seemed to slow down. Shouts became muffled, as the blade approaching my chest drew closer and closer. I try to move, but it feels like my limbs are made of lead, barely moving at all. _‘I’m going to die,’_ I think with a soft whimper.

“Master!”

Then I feel something push me to the side, followed by a grunt of pain. Mordred yanks the blade out of her right shoulder, letting out a hiss of contempt as she raised her sword in a defensive stance. “Idiot,” the knight snarled without turning her hidden head from me. I lower my gaze for a moment in shame, knowing she is right. “That’s a pretty cowardly move for a Servant. I’m guessing you’re an Assassin-class Servant,” Mordred growled angrily. The Servant merely laughed, a sound devoid of warmth and dripping with cruelty.

“The only thing that matters is that you and your friends will be dead soon!” She grinned before lunging forward.

“Not happening!” Mordred shifted her stance to her typical attack one, red lightning sparking off of her armor and sword. The next few moments leave me struggling to follow the fight. One moment, Mordred and the enemy Servant are locked in battle, the next they vanish, only to reappear and then vanish again. Is this what a true battle between Servants looks like? How can I help Mordred out if she needs it?

No. I have to trust in the Saber-class Servant. Then the sounds of combat register in a different direction. More Servants?

I turn around to see a shadowy figure armed with some sort of polearm slamming their weapon against Mash’s shield, causing the Demi-Servant to stumble backward. We’re trapped. Surrounded.

A blow that must have slipped through Mordred’s guard causes the knight to go skidding backwards. A few more cuts around the areas of her arms not protected by her plate armor have joined the injury she sustained earlier when she saved me. “Bastard’s tougher than she looks,” Mordred admitted grudgingly as her foe adjusts her stance, smirking at us. Behind us I can hear the sounds of the others shouting to one another, then another voice is heard, causing everyone to pause.

“I thought you were just some girl, but it looks like you’ve got some fight in you. Now there’s no way that I can leave you like this!” A masculine voice boomed around us. The sadistic look of joy in the long-haired Servant’s face fades away rapidly, replaced with a scowl.

“Caster?!? You dare interfere in this?” The Servant demanded, lowering her guard unintentionally. A fatal mistake, even for a Heroic Spirit. Mordred charged forward, swinging her sword with all her might at the distracted Servant. The blade sliced the Servant in half before the remains crumbled into shadow, disappearing into the night.

“Are you ok?” I asked Mordred, stepping forward slowly. She turns her head to me, maintaining a ready stance.

“I’ll be fine. Get to the others, I’ll be right behind you,” She said, pushing me forward a bit roughly to ensure that I did as she ordered. As I get closer, I notice the newcomer, who I assume was the one who had spoken up. He is dressed in sky-blue robs with white trimming and patterns, a cowl obscuring most of his head. A staff is held in his hands as he and Mash push forward against the remaining Servant. By the time Mordred and I return to the group, it is defeated. Mordred keeps both her helmet and her sword up.

“Who are you?” Ritsuka asked. The newcomer turns around as he used his free hand to lower his cowl, revealing bright blue hair in a ponytail, bright red eyes, and a casual smile on his face.

“I am the Servant summoned for the Caster-class for this Holy Grail War. I’m usually a Lancer, but I am Cú Chulainn. We ought to have a chat now, don’t ya agree?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope I didn't mess up my first Servant fight scene. I know it isn't great, but to be fair, this fight isn't super important for the story beyond just introducing Cu Caster. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter though and I will see you soon! :)


	3. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being filled in by Caster Cú Chulainn, our heroes make plans, and Mordred and Jacob begin to interact with one another outside of fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thing: Thank you everyone for the love you guys have given this story in the ten or so days since the first chapter was published! I hope you continue to enjoy it! :)
> 
> Now then
> 
> Sorry about the delay for this chapter. I had issues with figuring out the flow, which in the first segment you will undoubtedly see. However, the focus on this chapter is more on Jacob and Mordred interacting. More on all this stuff at the notes though

“So…let me get this straight. If you die, we’re doomed?” I asked a nonchalant Chulainn. I can feel a vein starting to throb violently on my forehead as he nodded in response. I want to scream my lungs off, demanding to know why the hell that my life expectancy today can be summed up in those last five words.

After finishing introductions, Cú Chulainn had led us to what appears to have once been the local school building. Surprisingly, aside from blown-out doors and broken windows, the building itself was in a rather decent condition, especially when one compared its status to that of the rest of the area.

We were currently seated in a circle of sorts, having moved the required number of desks and seats around to do so. To the right of me, Mordred was leaning back in her chair, resting her head against her hands. She hadn’t removed her helmet yet, and I hadn’t pressed her to do so. Much like my own baseball cap, it could possibly be a source of comfort for her, for all I know.

Which, for that matter, was extremely little. I’m going to have to fix that, if I can. It doesn’t sit well with me to have summoned someone, man or woman, to fight alongside me (I refuse to accept the director’s demands that I focus on letting my Servant do the fighting for me), and not doing anything to know them better, or form any kind of bond. Maybe…just maybe, Mordred and I could be friends?

Focus, Jacob. Save humanity first, then focus on relationship stuff.

Chulainn had told us about how Saber had defeated six out of the seven other Servants that had been summoned for the Grail war. About how afterwards, each of them had arisen as corrupted, altered versions of who they were. More importantly, he had told us about how to correct Singularity F.

Saber must be defeated before someone or something gets lucky enough to defeat our Caster ally.

Director Animusphere had excused herself briefly to contact Doctor Romani, saying that she wanted to have him log the events that the Irish Servant had just told us about, and to also check to see, as she said, if there were more capable Masters or something to takeover. The bulging vein on her forehead indicates her displeasure before she even speaks.

“We’re on our own. We can either take out this Saber, or we can dig in and hide.” In other words, fight or flight. Ritsuka speaks up, but I ignore him, my brain weighing out the pros and cons of each idea.

To fight would be proactive, and potentially (if successful) allow for us to return to Chaldea as soon as possible. On the other hand, it would mean fighting with a disadvantage in a cave, and having an ally that could absolutely not be allowed to die.

On the other hand, hiding would allow for our group to be able to force the enemy to come to us, and theoretically give us the initiative of being able to run. However, we lack the advantage of knowing the local area regardless of its present condition, while the surviving corrupted Servants appear to not have that problem.

Unfortunately, my internal musings have caused me to apparently miss something rather important as half of our party are now on their feet.

“Sorry, I spaced out. What’s going on now?” I am immediately rewarded with a scoff and eyeroll from Director Animusphere. My face flushed slightly in response.

“Chulainn is going to help Mash with finding out how to unlock and use her Noble Phantasm before we do anything else. I’m going along as moral support.” And to keep the Caster from perving on Mash, no doubt. I nod my head in response to Ritsuka.

“Ah ok. Thanks for that. Good luck.”

“Hopefully, we will have a plan for fixing this mess too, when you return.”

* * *

I wonder if this was similar to what my grandfather saw during his deployment in Europe? A burning, devastated city, devoid of joy, dreams, and life.

Before he died, he always refused to talk about what he saw upon marching past the beaches of Normandy, being vague about his service in France, and tight-lipped about Germany. From what my father told me when I asked him about that, he replied that my grandfather had been the same way whenever my dad asked similar questions. Young as I was, however, I didn’t miss the appearance of a haunted expression on my grandfather’s face. Having never bothered to ask him aloud, I had always wondered what he had seen that had impacted him that heavily.

Now?

Now, I think I have an idea why.

I’ve lost track of how long I had been staring at the fire. There had been nothing for me to do while the Hound of Ireland tried to teach Mash how to unlock and use her Noble Phantasm in the remains of what must have been a forest surrounding part of the abandoned school. My Servant had volunteered to patrol the perimeter of our temporary base in the meantime. That had left me alone with a muttering, brooding Olga Marie Animusphere.

I had lasted at best five minutes. After the fifth minute had finished being dragged past us, I had moved towards my feet. “I’m going to the roof,” I had informed my boss, who nodded absentmindedly in response. I had shaken my head, worried that the Magus was cracking under the stress. Hell, it was honestly a massive surprise that neither her, Ritsuka, or I had cracked. I needed some time to think and process.

I had gotten to do much of it. One of the biggest things was on the topic of the events immediately before we had been Rayshifted here.

There was no way that explosion had been an accident, experimental technology or not. The fact that the computer program, SHEBA, if memory served me correctly, had detected the absence of humanity’s existence after the next hundred years was the first clue, at least to me. If someone or something wanted that to happen, what better way then to ensure it by blowing up the only organization with the capabilities and resources to undo whatever it was that caused Singularity F? The question then became one of who.

It was almost without a doubt not Ritsuka, Mash, or Director Animusphere. Ritsuka, bless his apparent denseness, did not strike me. Mash seemed to be a bit…directionless when it came to herself. The director, for all her words and manners, really did seem to have humanity’s survival as a personal goal, though whether this was due to familial legacy or personal desire was unknown to me.

The fact that the explosion had happened when it did may narrow down the list. For an outside group to not only find the location of Chaldea, but the exact moment when the entirety of the senior staff and all the candidates were assembled in one area? Possible, but it would be one hell of a coincidence. More likely, the saboteur or saboteurs were back in Chaldea. Maybe that Romani guy?

No, I shouldn’t focus on that just yet. There’s already enough danger surrounding my comrades and me. If I continue to focus intently on this, at least for the present moment, I run the risk of slipping up, possibly getting one or all of us killed. We can’t fail, especially not now.

And then there is my Servant…

“So, this is where you’ve been,” Mordred Pendragon asked. Ah, speak of the devil. Without turning around, I nod my head, eyes still fixed on the burning buildings surrounding us. If we fail, is this what we will return to when Animusphere sends Ritsuka and I back? I scowl slightly, chasing away the gathering negative thoughts. Gotta keep my head in the game.

“Yeah. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you, Mordred. I just needed to find somewhere quiet. It’s been a long day. I feel like I’ve aged five years in as many hours. With that Caster guy away with Mash and Ritsuka, I needed to think. Did you find anything?”

“Not even some more of those pathetic skeletons,” Mordred replied casually, shaking her head. “So, you doing ok then?” She asked, though it may have been less of a caring question and more of a wanting to know basis. I grunt, before changing the topic, my gaze flirting over to the ruined forest.

“I wonder how Mash is doing. Since Ritsuka’s with her, I doubt that Chulainn would try to make any more…’advances’…on her like earlier.” Mordred snorted, clearly amused by the incident in question.

“That guy’s so much like Merlin…are all Casters perverts?” Mordred groaned in frustration. I can imagine her rolling her green eyes in annoyance behind her helmet. I shoot a questioning look to my Servant, turning around and leaning backwards slightly, my attention focused on her.

“Wait, so one of the most famous magicians of all-time was a womanizer?” I asked, a bit incredulously. The knight nods her head, retracting her helmet. She walks over to me and leans against the remaining chain-link fence I am resting against.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t know him all that well, but there were plenty of rumors. The few times I saw him at court did little to convince me they were false.” Still staring in disbelief, I started laughing softly. As my laughter dies down, I lick my lips a bit nervously.

“Hey, Mordred. Since we have a few minutes, do you mind if I ask a few questions?” She didn’t answer at first, as she cocked her head slightly, a confused expression on her face.

“Why?”

“Well, it’s just that if we are going to be partners, it would probably be a good idea to get to know about each other some?” I offered, turning my ballcap around in my hands once again. Mordred said nothing for the next few seconds, pondering about this before shrugging casually.

“Ask away.”

“What’s the name of your sword?”

“Clarent.”

“What were the other Knights of the Roundtable like?”

“Lancelot was a womanizer, in addition to being skilled with the sword. Tristan a melodramatic crybaby with a ridiculous-looking weapon. Agravain was just broody and stern, acting like he was a voice of reason. Gawain, he was a prick. Then there was Bedivere.” I perked up. Huh. Mordred wasn’t so dismissive of that name. That’s a good sign, I hope.

“What was he like? The stories about that time don’t really say much about him, other than how he returned Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake…” I trailed off as my brain realized that maybe, _just maybe_ , it isn’t all too good of an idea to discuss the events that happened immediately after her father had slain her. Fortunately, Mordred doesn’t react.

“He was one of King Arthur’s most loyalist of knights, even among the Roundtable. He was quiet, but always tried to be friendly."

“Alright. Final question for now. Do you only wear your armor? Or do you have clothing or outfits that you can change into?” Mordred didn’t answer with words, but rather with actions.

Her silvery-red armor glowed a faint red for a few seconds before suddenly disappearing to reveal a rather revealing outfit that left most of her upper body exposed. For the few seconds before I look away, I notice her toned arms and exposed stomach, and hints of the bottom of her breasts. While I am glad that she isn’t nude, it’s not like it’s much better than if that were the case. A soft flash of red filled the room when I turned my reddening face away.

A few seconds later, I feel a firm slap to my back. “Hey, you ok?” Mordred asked, having either apparently not realized I found her body attractive or realizing that and not caring. If I had to bet, in all honesty, it would be on the former. Though, it does confuse me a bit. She doesn’t like being referred to as a woman, and yet she is fine with clothing that would show that she is one?

“When we get back to Chaldea, would you like me to buy some clothes for you? Actual clothes, so you don’t have to go around wearing that armor constantly?” _‘And maybe also not cause every single remaining guy with hormones to go crazy with lust?’_

“You offering to pay for that?” Mordred asked, a slightly confused expression on her face. I give her a soft smile.

“Of course. I just figured that you would like to have the chance to go out in the world when we’re not on missions, and that if so, having a pair of everyday clothes would be useful. Hell, it might be nice even if you want to just stay in Chaldea,” I explained with a shrug at the last part. Mordred’s green eyes stare into my brown ones, her brow crinkled slightly in thought. I remain silent, waiting to hear from my Servant.

Finally, a wide, toothy grin erupts from the blonde as she slapped my back, gentler this time, like a pat on the back almost. “Well, thanks Master! You might not always be good with words, but at least you’re not a useless Master.” I chuckled softly at the backhanded praise.

“You should see me when I have a proper sword in my hands,” I sighed forlornly, thinking back about my crude and temporary weapon. Maybe Chaldea has an armory to allow Master Candidates to defend themselves? Mordred shoots me a suspicious look.

“You know how to use a sword?” She asked. I opened my mouth to reply when a new, but familiar, voice interrupts.

“Aronson.” Ah, the lord of brooding has deigned to visit us, I see. The director gazes at my Servant and I with a rather calm, composed expression.

“Director,” I responded, curious. “Is everything ok?”

“Tentatively, I would say yes. Mash and Fujimaru contacted Romani and I a few minutes ago. Apparently, the Caster has made a breakthrough in our efforts to discover her Noble Phantasm. They’re now on their way back. Once they do, we’re going to come up with a plan for how to proceed with the information Chulainn has provided us with.” I nodded in understanding.

“It’ll be nice to finally have something. I don’t know about Mordred or any of the others, but I am getting sick of seeing only burning buildings.” Director Animusphere gives me an unamused look. I raise my hands in apology. “Sorry. I guess we should start heading downstairs then?”

“Yes,” the white-haired Magus responded, turning back to the stairwell. I was about to push myself off of the fence to follow her when I noticed that my Servant hasn’t moved, but seems to eb staring off into the distance.

“Mordred?” The blonde knight doesn’t respond. I straighten my back, placing my hat back onto my head as Director Animusphere swiveled her head rapidly, eyes darting between my Servant and I. Bothered by the silence, and the building tension, I speak up, a little louder with my question this time. “Mordred. What’s wrong?” I notice her eyes widening suddenly, just before her helmet slams back into place.

“Hold on!“ She shouted as she grabbed the director and I. The next second, I am experiencing the exhilaratingly terrifying experience of free-falling from the roof of the building. Next to me, the director screams loudly and incoherently, a sentiment I would be sharing. The ground draws closer and closer. I start to close my eyes, my lips moving in a silent prayer that my Servant didn’t just get me killed.

The next second, the air is forced out of my lungs as the building we had been staying in explodes. My vision is obscured as

“Master? Are you ok?!?” If it wasn’t for the fact that I was coughing out dust and grit from my lungs, I might have grinned at the level of concern. It’s probably only because I am essentially her life-energy battery pack, but maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of personal concern for me in her voice. Lying nearby after being knocked off my head is my precious cap, covered in a fine layer of pulverized concrete. I reach forward, grabbing it by the brim, then I shake it to rid it of the mess as best I can, coughing a bit more as I did so.

“I’m f-fine, Mordred. If you hadn’t reacted like you did, the director and I would’ve been goners,” I reply as the sounds of both coughing and more footsteps fills the cloudy air.

“Jacob! Director! Are you guys ok?”

“No, we are dead,” I attempt to joke, only for my Servant to give reproachful scowl, clearly unamused by my antics. “Yeah, we’re ok. Just shaken somewhat. Didn’t realized we had a bomber in this town.”

“Master, I think we just had our first encounter with an Archer-class Servant.” Note to self, if we survive this, ask Mordred to call me by my name. Being called ‘Master’ is rather unnerving.

“That damn bastard,” our Caster-class ally muttered. Of course, the ranged Servant that had been summoned and apparently corrupted in this God-forsaken Singularity would have the power of a mini-WMD. Fan-frickin-tastic! “We need to come up with a new plan. As in, now.”

“After we find somewhere to hide,” Mash chimed in by stating the obvious once again.

“Follow me,” Chulainn gestured. Putting our trust in our unexpected ally once more, we do so, Mordred taking up the rear. _‘Well, this complicates things.’_

* * *

“Well, since we are now being targeted by a Servant with long-range abilities, it’s obvious we have to abandon the ‘exploring only’ aspect from our earlier plan. We have to go on the offensive, as much as I hate the idea considering who we have available,” the director of Chaldea grumbled. Chulainn stands next to her, and I could have almost sworn I heard the Caster muttering something about how we wouldn’t be having a problem if he had been summoned as a Lancer. I shake my head slightly as I notice that no one seems to be suggesting anything.

“What if we split into two groups?” The silence in the abandoned building we had ran into was so thick, a dropped pin hitting the ground may as well have sounded like an explosion. Everyone turns their eyes towards me.

“What do you mean, Aronson?” Director Animusphere looked at me, eyes narrowed with suspicion. I swallow softly, feeling my anxiety levels starting to rise. Well, too late now. I push forward.

“If we can’t afford to wait, we also can’t afford to be pinned down in one group. Otherwise, that Archer Servant can eliminate you, me, and Ritsuka with a single shot. The other remaining shadow Servants Chulainn mentioned could also join in on the fight, and leave us weakened. Therefore, Mordred and I will take on the Archer guarding the cave you,” I said, gesturing at the Irish Caster, “told us about earlier. In the meantime, Director Animusphere, you, Mash, Ritsuka, and Chulainn can try to slip past the fighting to enter the cave in order to defeat this Saber Servant and retrieve the Grail, fixing the Singularity.”

Ritsuka and Mash exchanged nervous looks while Director Animusphere holds her chin in one hand as she weights the risks and benefits of the plan. Chulainn focuses his red eyes on me, being the first one to break the silence and voicing his concern over what I had just suggested.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I know the young lady,” I rest my hand on Mordred’s shoulder as I can feel her tense as her gender is mentioned, “is a strong Servant. But I’m worried that Archer will prove to be too much.”

“I believe in my Servant. We will defeat, or at the very least, distract your Archer pal. If we defeat him before the rest of you finish off this Saber Servant, we’ll hop in as soon as we can. If the opposite happens, then the Archer is finished. Maybe it is not the best plan, but damn it,” I growled, thumping my free hand against the wall softly, “it’s the only plan we can use.”

“Jacob Senpai is correct. We shouldn’t keep standing around in one area, or else Archer will continue to use his superior range to bombard us. He only needs to be lucky once or twice,” Mash chimed in. I nod my head thankfully at the Demi-Servant, before turning to the still-silent Director Animusphere, one hand cupping her chin as she contemplated my proposal. Finally letting out a long sigh, she clasps her hands behind her back.

“Very well. Seeing as the plan _could_ work, we will do it. Aronson, you and your Servant should leave soon. We will follow in about ten minutes. Hopefully, the two of you will have him preoccupied by then. Just…don’t do anything stupid, like trying to fight. Got it?”

“Crystal. Good luck,” I said, nodding towards Mordred. Returning the nod, we turn around and begin to head out when my boss speaks up.

“Good luck, Aronson. Don’t die,” She said as we begin the trek to the cave housing the Grail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so the delay in this chapter, as mentioned earlier, was because of what to include. Orginally I was also going to include the fight scene with Archer, but finally decided that it would have felt a bit better if it was in the enxt chapter. Another thing I am worried about is maybe I am moving too fast or too slow in how Mordred and Jacob are interacting. Sadly, I won't be able to write Mordred perfectly, but I wanna try to stay as close to her personality. As for Jacob, I plan on giving a full background thing once Singularity F has been completed, so bear with me please.
> 
> Now, another thing. Since Servants are going to start being summoned at Chaldea soon, I've decided to try something out. If there is a certain Servant you think should be summoned by either Jacob or Ritsuka, please comment down below. I am also going to be starting a few short series set with the same character but not fully cannon to the events of this story, so keep an eye out. Anyways, see you next time when we get to see Mordred and Jacob face off against Archer! :)


	4. Mordred versus Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred, acting as bait, engage the Archer of Singularity F

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First proper Servant fight scene, so hopefully it will be decent enough lol. Thanks again to everyone who has subscribed, left kudos, or added this story to their bookmarks! It's been very encouraging to see the love it seems to be getting, and I hope to not cause any of you to be disappointed! Anyways, on to the good stuff!

Mordred and I walked down the streets cautiously. No skeletons had bothered us, for reasons I know not. Thankfully, it allowed us to cover the distance to the cave rather rapidly, even with the fact that every now and then we duck into ruined buildings and sneak through clusters of wreckage to avoid being targeted by the Archer.

I feel vulnerable without a physical weapon. Some Magi might argue that the Servant beside me was one of the ultimate physical weapons I could wield, but I would argue against that to the end. She is a person, not an object to be used and then discarded if it fails or is no longer needed.

Speaking off, I can’t help but notice the expression on her face. She has been gazing ahead, her brow furrowed. Maybe I shouldn’t push the issue, but we’re about to face an opponent that could wipe out the entire group in seconds. Anything less than having our heads 100% in the game is unacceptable. I turn towards her, opening my mouth to speak when she beats me to the point.

“Tell me, Master…” Mordred begins, looking at me with guarded green eyes. “Did you mean what you said back there, about having faith?” Why was she asking? I answer without hesitation, however.

“I meant every word. You answered my call on your own accord. Therefore, I doubt you would settle for giving anything other than your best.”

“But yet you are willing to trust the Knight of Treachery?” Mordred persisted, a confused expression on her face as she tilted her head slightly as she stops walking. I do the same and gaze down at her.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“Because sometimes, you have to rely on blind trust and faith. Titles do not define who a person is. I only know the basics of the fall of Camelot, but I doubt that it is only your fault, or that you didn’t have good reasons for doing what you did. Maybe I am wrong, but I will trust you. We’re partners, and partners can’t work together if there is no trust,” I explained. Sure, I would love to know more about what happened, because I have a feeling there is more behind Mordred’s rebellion than I know. However, this is neither the time nor place to ask or push.

Maybe she will betray me regardless of how I behave to her, but if I act like she is going to do so at any second, then that chance will only increase.

Mordred stared silently at me for a few minutes, staring into my eyes. Maybe she is searching for deceit, or other ulterior motives? Whatever she is searching for, she doesn’t find.

“…You’re an odd one, Master,” the Saber finally said, turning back around to resume our march. I follow suit as she continued speaking. “I suppose that I will have to prove you right then, huh?”

Now walking slightly behind her, I feel the soft smile forming with my mouth. _‘She is definitely one of a kind,’_ I reflected in amusement. Hopefully, the next few hours won’t be the end of it.

* * *

Another ten minutes goes by, and we approach the cave nestled in the ruins of what appeared to have been a local temple. My Servant and I cautiously approached. “Where is he? Do you sense him?” I asked the English knight beside me. A masculine voice from behind causes us to whirl around.

A tall, white-haired man with tanned skin and what appears to be rust stains across his features gazes down in what I assume to be boredom, though his gaze is locked on my Servant as he speaks.

“So, this is the famous traitor. I see that the resemblance is striking. At least, when it comes to looks. At least _she_ didn’t destroy an entire nation in what was essentially a temper tantrum because she didn’t get what she wanted,” the Archer-class Servant observed, his voice as cold and lifeless as steel. Of course, why wouldn’t we ever get to fight a friendly Servant intent on killing us. I mean, it wouldn’t change having to fight, but at least the banter would be entertaining…maybe?

Mordred growled, her gauntlets creaking softly as she tightens her grip

“What did you say?

“You heard me, _child_ ,” Archer said without blinking or breaking his monotone. Mordred’s body tensed up, like a coiled viper just seconds from lashing out. Her green eyes blaze angrily as her fearsome helmet reassembles itself over her head. My eyes widen as I realize what Archer was doing, and the fact that it is working all too well for him.

“Mordred, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to-“ I tried to warn

“You bastard!”

Mordred doesn’t lunge forward so much as throws herself forward, Clarent held in both hands, ready to deliver a sundering overhead swing. “Damn it,” I muttered harshly, realizing that for all intents and purposes, we have given up the advantage of reacting first.

I watch as Archer extended his hands slightly, before two concave-shaped short swords appear, one in either hand. They look to be of a Chinese origin, and one blade is white while the other is black. Where is his bow though? There is no way that explosion from earlier was because of two small swords...right?

Just as Mordred begins to swing her sword upon reaching them, our opponent raised his arms across his chest, the two blades forming an _X_ shape as he parried Mordred’s blow. To the Saber’s credit, though, the impact sends him skidding back a few feet. He pushes his body forward, delivering a rapid series of cuts and thrusts that Mordred blocks. My hand clenched tightly, fingernails digging into my palms as I watch helplessly.

Sparks leap off of the weapons each time they connect. The moment that Archer eased up on his attacks, Mordred kicked him in the chest with one armored boot, sending him back a few feet, giving her more room for her to use full length of her sword. She swings with a loud grunt.

The white sword intercepted the strike, and the blade shattered. Dropping the hilt of the broken sword, the corrupted Servant lunges with the other sword. I watch in confusion as the discard blade dissolves, and then my eyes widen as it reappears moments later. Noble Phantasm?

Mordred merely growls angrily. “Cheap trick for a cheap bastard!” She snarled as she delivers her own series of wild sword swings. Archer didn’t even appear to raise an eyebrow at the insult or the flurry of attacks. Instead, the white-haired Servant alternates between blocking and dodging.

A soft exclamation of surprise from behind causes me to turn around, seeing the rest of my group. Not trusting my voice to give away the ploy, I wave wildly, pointing at the now-unguarded cave entrance. Director Animusphere nodded in reply, lightly shoving Ritsuka and Mash forward. The action causes them to regain their focus, tearing their gaze away from the fight.

Trailing in the rear, Chulainn turned around as the others disappeared into the darkness of the cave, mouthing a wish of good luck to me and my Servant. We might actually be needing it. A grunt of pain causes me to whirl my attention back to the fight.

Mordred stumbles back a few steps, one hand holding her right arm just below her shoulder armor. Blood dripped off of one of the Archer’s swords as he gazed in that irritating, condescending manner.

“Another difference it seems. You fight like a Berserker. Unimaginable for any knight, even a treasonous one, would fight like you are.”

“My skills are second only to my father!” Mordred snarled, letting go off her injury. If it is any consolation for us, it seems to be nothing more than a deep cut. The sinking feeling of my gut tells me that it may not be the only one

“Empty boasts. The King of Knights fought like a true knight. You will never be one in anything other than title.” My servant’s figure starts to tremble, her fury building stronger than earlier. Archer readies his swords as his taunting seems to work effectively once again. I point my right index finger at the Servant’s face and fire a shot of Gandr.

Not even looking away from the seething Saber, Archer tilts his head to the right slightly, allowing for the curse to fly by harmlessly. At least it seems to have gotten him to shut up. I keep my hand and my gaze focused while I address my comrade.

“Ignore him! Mordred, he’s trying to get under your skin. He wants to provoke you again like earlier.

“You remind me of someone I loathed,” Archer commented idly, leaping backwards. His swords vanish. In their place, a large bow appeared in one hand, and a long, thin metal object in the other. I assume that it is an arrow. He notches the arrow and pulled back the bowstring with the casual ease that can be seen in one who has constantly been using the weapon. Adjusting his body, he locks his cold, lifeless eyes with mine.

It takes me a few seconds to realize that he is aiming at me.

“There’s always the easiest option for taking down a Servant. No matter how strong or skilled, without their Master, a Servant is on borrowed time at best.” Damn it! I raise my arm back up and point again at the Servant, firing round after round of Gandr as fast as I can, pumping my Magic Circuits for everything they have. An Aronson doesn’t go down without a fight!

A familiar sword moves in a blur, slamming into the bow from the side and knocking both bow and arrow out of our opponent’s hands. An empty-handed Mordred pushes forward, her hands clenched in fists as she tries to connect a gauntlet-clad fist or one of her pointed sabatons with the body of Archer as she unleashes yet another flurry of blows. My arm still extended, I blink as the events that had just happened are fully processed.

 _‘She threw her sword like a damn javelin!’_ I thought, staring incredulously at the knight. Without a sword to block the two swords from earlier, having been re-summoned at some point, small amounts of blood are thrown to the left or right as the corrupted Servant scores minor blows.

I curse as I watch him force Mordred back, the tide of the fight having change _again_. Even if we buy time for Ritsuka and the others to defeat the Saber-class Servant Chulainn told us about and come to our aid, it might be too late. Mordred’s fury is working against her, causing gaps to appear in her defense even when she retrieves Clarent. His swords seem unable to penetrate or damage her armor, but it doesn’t cover everywhere.

My eyes narrowed slightly as I creep around to the side, my thoughts running at a thousand miles an hour. I don’t have a sword or my makeshift weapon from the start of this nightmare, not that it would have been of any meaningful use in this case. Gandr is a distraction at best. I have one more trick up my sleeves.

A sharp cry of pain distracts me as my eyes snap to my Servant. Somehow, during the rapid exchange of attacks, Archer had managed to badly damage Mordred’s helmet, with part of her left face exposed. She stumbled back a step, before growling. I point my hand once more to fire a shot of Gandr, praying to whatever divine being that was watching us for it to work.

The curse flies true. Whether he was distracted or something else, I don’t know. What I do know, however, was that the Archer had divided his attention between my Servant and I. This might be our best chance. I draw in a deep breath as I fire another Gandr round that is deflected.

“Mordred! Now!” I shouted. A few seconds later, I hear a sickening sound, followed by the sounds of two metal objects falling to the ground.

Archer looks down at the hilt of Clarent pressing against his chest, a small, sad smile on his lips as the familiar gold dust appears. We did it! Mordred pants, helmet retracted, and blood running down the left side of her face from the cut over her brow. I stare at our defeated foe as he opened his mouth.

“So, it seems that once more I failed her. Perhaps this is for the best…when you see Saber, tell her…that I failed…” The dying Servant doesn’t manage to finish saying the last word of his request, having finished dissolving, but I still nod my head. He may have tried his best to kill us, but I see no reason to not at least honor that simple request. I flinch suddenly as I hear a soft groan. I whirl about, frantically staring at Mordred before hurrying over to the injured Knight of Treachery.

I bite my lip softly, worried, as my Servant falls down to one knee, leaning heavily against Clarent. I hurry over to her. “Mordred?”

“B-bastard knocked me around some,” Mordred replied in a steady tone, not looking at me. “Don’t worry Master, I’m not going to die.” That’s a relief to hear, as I exhale softly. However, that doesn’t mean that we can go running off to support the others. I spend the next few minutes weighing my options. Mana transfer by blood could work, but it might take too long, and considering how I am starting to run on fumes due to being unable to properly rest, eat, or drink, I can’t risk it.

Looking down at the red markings on my hand, I suddenly feel stupid. Of course! I could use a Command Seal to heal her. From my research during the past few months before going to Chaldea, I had gathered that there was very little that a well-worded command couldn’t do. They were only to be used in emergencies, and my gut tells me that this is a pretty good time.

“By the power of my First Command Seal, Saber, be healed,” I intoned in a solemn voice. The top seal, glowing bright red, instantly vanishes upon finishing my declaration. I stare worriedly at my Servant. Like, well, magic, Mordred’s wounds began to heal. A minute later, and the Knight of Treachery pushes herself up from her kneeling position. The tears and scratches in her armor and sleeves were gone as well.

“Thanks, Master,” Mordred grunted. I nod my head as I stare at the cave entrance. My body shakes slightly from a combination of exhilaration and the draining of adrenaline from the near-death experience. We did it! We defeated a powerful Servant. I didn’t let anyone down. I manage to not become distracted with the prospect of being acknowledged for our accomplishment. Maybe Director Animusphere won’t even consider giving Mordred a different Master, since I proved that I am competent enough to work alongside her. No, focus. Praises and all can come later, when we are safe and sound in the present at Chaldea.

“You did well. Are you ready to help Mash and Ritsuka?” _‘And finish this nightmare?’_ I silently added in my head.

“Yeah. Thanks for the assist, even if it could have gotten you killed.” Well, crap. Mordred made sure to add extra emphasis on that last part. Is she upset at me? Think, Jacob, think.

“Thanks for saving my ass again,” I quipped in response, earning a brief bark of laughter as we entered the cave. As we start walking, I shot the Knight of Rebellion a side-long look. “That part where you threw the sword…that might have been a tad too much.” Another bark of laughter echoes as I shake my head.

* * *

I shiver slightly after the last few steps. Not from cold, though it is far from warm down here. Rather, an ominous feeling slams into my body, heightening my anxiety. “We shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled numbly, fighting down a wave of nauseous. “This place…it feels…wrong.” Mordred nodded in response, Clarent resting against her shoulder, eyes narrowed.

“It must be a side-effect of a corrupted Grail,” she suggested. I nod before clenching my fists. Damn it, this is not a time to risk a break-down. Not after getting this far.

“The sooner we get to the others, the sooner we can finish this. Hopefully, Doctor Romani has finished whatever repairs to the Rayshift machinery by now,” I say, forcing my voice to sound like normal. It felt rather feeble an effort, though thankfully Mordred doesn’t comment.

We hadn’t gotten too much further into the cave when the ground shuddered slightly.

“Cave-in?” I asked, unable to help the slight lilt of panic in my voice. I had heard of the terrifying experiences of being trapped during a cave-in, and thus wasn’t in all too a hurry to gain first-hand experience. Thankfully, my Servant shakes her head before her helmet once more covers her head.

“Unlikely, at least for now.” And there went some of my confidence in the situation. Mordred continues speaking, unaware or uncaring of her wording. “If I had to guess, it might be because someone used a Noble Phantasm. Let’s hurry up!”

“Right!” I nodded in agreement before forcing my tired body forward, following right behind the knight. Soon we enter a large chamber, and I take a few minutes to take in the situation.

Chulainn’s outfit was torn, leaving him topless. His muscular chest bore several superficial wounds, and he was leaning rather heavily against his staff, glaring ahead. Slighting in front of him, an equally battered Mash leans tiredly against her massive shield, as the faint outline of what appeared to be a blue brick wall fades away. If it weren’t for Ritsuka holding her up, the Demi-Servant would have probably been on the floor. My fellow Master, aside from one or two tears in his clothing from stray debris, appears to be fine, along with the director and the odd, dog-like creature that had been following Mash and Ritsuka. The ground, however, between them and the pulsing light towards the back of the cave, which I assume is the Grail of this Singularity, was carved out. I suppose that whatever Mash had done to block the attack was responsible for the shaking earlier. I turn towards my boss.

“Director!”

“Took you two long enough. Aronson, is your Servant able to take over? Mash seems to have used up almost all of her remaining strength to block that last attack, and we can’t risk Caster any further,” Director Animusphere asked me. I pointed towards the armored-clad Servant in front of Mash as Mordred and I take point.

Her skin is pale, unnaturally so. Her yellow eyes stare impassively, reminding me eerily of Archer’s eyes. Held before her breastplate was a two-handed sword, smaller than Clarent (in other words, a normal-sized sword), and covered in a massive aura of purplish energy that had taken the shape of a massive caricature of a sword. Upon seeing Mordred and I, the energy begins to dissipate, though a faint outline was still present.

“Is that Saber?” I asked, looking at my fellow Master, who answers with a simple nod. I feel stupid for a moment for asking what was probably a redundant question before shaking my head. “Is Mash ok?” Another nod. However, Ritsuka looked slightly distracted, gazing over my shoulder. A drained Mash was also doing the same thing.

I turned around, having noticed that my Servant was staring intently at our final opponent. Her body seemed to stiffen, Clarent held in both hands loosely, tip pointed towards the Servant. Whether that was in preparation to attack or something else, I know not.

“Father…?” Mordred muttered upon seeing the black-armored Servant.

“Mordred,” was the only answer we got. Cold, clipped, and unemotional, in a way like the corrupted Archer. Then the words just uttered by both Servants registers, and only one word comes to mind.

….Oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mordred facing off against Artoria Alter...what could go wrong? How did I do with the fighting scene, and are you guys enjoying how I am writing Mordred so far?
> 
> As mentioned in the last chapter, this was originally going to be the second half of Chapter Three. However, as also mentioned, I felt that the flow might have been better if it was split in two. Anyways, we are almost done with Singularity F, so that means more Servants appearing. Next chapter I might be making a poll at the end for our two Masters with a select list of Servants that may be summoned before we start the First Singularity. I am going to be mainly going with Servants being summoned either from the start like Artoria and Mordred can be, but with most of the other Servants, both good and bad, are going to be able to be summoned after the completion of each Singularity (E.G. Jeanne being summoned after completing Singularity 1). Also, keep an eye out for my Omake list I plan on making in a separate story.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will see you all next time! Stay safe and healthy


	5. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred faces off against Artoria Alter, Jacob reveals his magic specialty, and a certain Magus reveals their true loyalty and intention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super happy that the fight scene was well-recived last chapter. Now we get to see some Mordred and Salter.

It had been a long day for me.

Narrowly missing being blown up by a possible bomb, then being teleported to a nightmarish hellscape where pretty much every five minutes there was some sort of life-or-death situation. Granted, some things did happen, such as Mash apparently discovering her Noble Phantasm (name to be shared later hopefully), summoning Mordred, and gaining Caster Chulainn as ana ally/guide. Which was immediately followed by several more near-death experiences.

The last thing I had expected today, however, was one of the world’s worst family reunions.

“It looks like Archer has fallen,” Saber commented, ignoring Mordred. I furrow my eyebrows in distaste at the action, staring at Mordred’s father (God, this gender stuff is going to mess with my head). However, Archer’s last request still needs to be fulfilled. I slowly nodded my head.

“Yes. Your comrade put up quite a fight. Before dying, he asked me to deliver his apologies for failing you,” I said, doing my best to keep my tone even. Saber said nothing, forcing the next couple of minutes to pass by in an awkward silence. Finally, the corrupted Servant shook her head in what I assumed was disappointment.

“Hmph. No matter. I will defeat each and every last one of you,” Saber declared, as if the fact wasn’t a possible outcome so much as the _only_ outcome. In front of me, Mordred growls.

“Like hell it will be that simple,” she warned, finally gaining the attention of her father.

“So…I see someone has summoned you. Perhaps it is fitting that I will be the one to crush you,” Saber said to a fuming Mordred. Her yellow eyes stare impassively.

“You look different, King of Knights,” Mordred replied with a soft snarl, bile focused on the title. If I had thought that the mind games Archer had played on her were bad, this was going to be worse. However, the way Arthur’s son was clutching the hilt of Clarent gave me the sense that I shouldn’t interrupt.

“The Grail showed me that I had made some mistakes. Mistakes that I will not make again.”

“Like not acknowledging your son?” Mordred shot back bitterly. Saber shook her head, unaffected by the accusation.

“Not quite. That moment where you declared your intentions when I denied your claim to my throne, that was a mistake. I should have cut you down then and there. Instead, I allowed you to live. That was my mistake.”

I can’t help but flinch at that statement. A sentiment that the rest of our group seems to share. Mordred said nothing, her body shaking slightly. Whether that was in anger or something else, I couldn’t tell as the Knight of Rebellion refuses to look anywhere other than at her father.

“Master…” She finally called out to me. Her voice for once was utterly emotionless. It makes me shudder slightly. Having gotten use to, and dare I say enjoy, her typical boastful and excited personality, this seems just wrong.

“Yes?”

“If you interrupt this fight, it won’t end well for you. This is between me and my father. Got it?” She demanded. I sigh internally, having accepted that this was going to happen. I nod before speaking up.

“In that case then, I have one thing to ask of you in return. Don’t die.” Please don’t die. Not when we are so close to finishing this nightmare.

“Understood, Master,” Mordred replied, scowling further at her father before her helmet slammed back into place. Crouching down, she readied Clarent before both Sabers lunged forward. The first clash of a corrupted Excalibur against the larger Clarent shook the floor somewhat, causing a few small rocks to become dislodged from the ceiling. Thankfully, they fall harmlessly, but it served as a reminder for us the risk we would take if we focused too intently on watching the duel.

“I thought you were the perfect king! Unable to make a mistake, and instead to always use wisdom! So why are you doing this?!?“ Mordred shouted over the clash of metal.

“Maybe once those would have been correct, but your actions ensured that the ideals of Camelot are no longer necessary now,” Saber responded. Wow. Who knew that King Arthur was capable of being this cruel? Chulainn watches the fight carefully nearby, and I turn to him.

“If it looks like Saber is about to kill Mordred, get her out of there. Please,” I ask, almost begging. The Irish Servant gave me a brief sidelong look before nodding.

“Just be prepared to use a Command Seal if she tries to take my head off. With a little bit of luck, that might not happen,” he responded before creeping around to the side, eyes narrowed. I turn my gaze back to the fight, my anxiety building in my stomach by the second.

It had been at most a minute by now, but to me, it feels like the fight has gone on longer. Thankfully, Mordred hadn’t been wounded by Saber’s sword yet, though at least on one occasion I saw the blade barely miss scratching my Servant’s chest plate. However, Mordred has also failed to deliver any meaningful blows.

The flurry of blows and counterblows proceeds unabated in intensity. It seems the two Saber-class Servants were evenly matched in this case, as nothing beyond superficial damage had been dealt to either party. After the corrupted Excalibur deflects yet another swing of Clarent, father and son leapt backwards.

The battle pauses for a moment as the two face off. Then Mordred’s helmet retracted, allowing me to see the burning anger in her emerald eyes as the hair stands up at the back of my neck. Is she about to use her Noble Phantasm.

“This is the evil sword that destroyed my father…” Mordred intoned as Clarent’s blade was covered in crackling red energy. The red pieces at the base of Clarent shifted slightly just before the massive blade became engulfed in energy as Mordred readied her sword.

“Vortigern, hammer of the vile king, revers the rising sun, swallow the light,“ Saber responded in her monotone, readying her sword as if to swing as the entire form of the weapon is covered in the same energy as when my Servant and I had entered.

“Excalibur-“

“Clarent-“

“Morgan!”

“Blood Arthur!” Mordred howled in response, swinging Clarent as a surge of red energy slams into the black-and-purple mess that the corrupted Saber sent towards the Knight of Treachery. The two Noble Phantasm smash into each other.

A massive blast of wind almost knocked us off our feet. I can feel my cap being blown off my head as my right arm covered my eyes protectively. However, a terrible groaning sound caused me to look upwards, eyes widening as I see part of the battered cave ceiling giving falling towards us.

The others stare also in horror at the new danger. There are too many of us for Chulainn to rescue in time, Mordred was still fighting, and Mash doesn’t seem to be able to repeat whatever defensive ability she had used earlier in blocking what must have been Saber’s Noble Phantasm.

Thankfully, I have one trick up my sleeves, even if I have never tried it before in a situation even close to this one. I have no other choice, however, but try or die.

* * *

The closest to a specialty when it came to magic with my family was with the use of natural elements. My father focused on earth, my mother fire. My grandfather had chosen air, which would turn out to have been a rather wise choice, though he did not know it at the time. As for me?

I had chosen ice.

Interesting fact. Solid Ice can be incredibly durable. Three feet of solid ice can support up to roughly one hundred and ten tons, for example. I activated my Magic Circuits and pushed out. In my mind, I imagined all of the water dripping from the stalactites, hidden pools in crevices, even the sweat on my own forehead. All this water, collecting in one point overhead.

The main issue with being able to form and manipulate ice, at least for me, was that I needed water. The parched air outside had held none. But in the cold depths of underground, there was enough water that I could work with.

“ _Eis, bilden! Mach dich zu eninem Schild!_ ” I shouted, holding my arms out, my eyes still closed. In my mind still, I imagine the water turning into ice, spreading overhead. There was not enough water to make it as thick as I would like.

Thankfully, I only required a small amount to start with. I imagine a thick sheet of ice overhead, my arms becoming two massive pillars to keep that ice over our heads.

A wall of ice floats overhead as the falling rocks smash against the surface, each impact feeling like a punch to the gut for me as I began to strain my muscles.

I had never summoned such a large amount of ice nor used it to support such a heavy wave of force impacting against it. The rocks slam into the ice, creating a horrendous grating noise. It feels like someone was sitting on my shoulders, trying to force me down. Sweat starts to trickle down my forehead as I groan softly under the pressure. The amount of rocks pressing down actually causes the ice shield to be pushed towards the floor.

Closer towards us.

What was I thinking? I had never summoned anything larger than an icicle before. All I did was buy us a few extra seconds of life, nothing more! My knees start to buckle under the strain of futilely pushing the ice back up.

“Jacob!”

This is it…this is where I fail, huh?

“S-senpai…”

Proving myself to be a failure…

“Aronson! Don’t stop, it’s working!” The director’s encouragement causes me to snap out of my funk.

Unable to speak properly, I instead growled in response. No, no, no, no, no! Come on, you can do this! That one thought runs itself over and over in my head as I feel the wall of ice overhead start to steady itself. It no longer felt like it was being forced down by the impact of more rocks.

With a painful howl, I gestured with my hands to force the wall to one side, causing the rock to slide down, ending the threat. My throat feeling hoarse, I prepare to release the ice.

“ _Eis, schmelze,_ ” I rasped, flicking my right hand to the side to ensure that the rapidly melting ice doesn’t splash down on us. I close my eyes, falling down onto one knee. My shoulders rise and fall rapidly as my tired lungs cry out for air. A dull throbbing sound, the start of a headache, no doubt, is felt in my head. I power down my Circuits and force my eyes to not slip shut.

The odd dog-like critter trots over, the brim of my hat being held in its mouth. Nuzzling my arm, the animal seems to be offering my hat. _“Fou?”_ It seemed to ask, and a weak chuckle comes out of my mouth as one shaky hand gingerly grasped my hat.

“Thanks, buddy,” I whispered in response, my mouth feeling parched as I place my hat back atop my head. The headache starts to recede a bit as I hear footsteps.

“Jacob Senpai…”

“That was amazing!” Ritsuka exclaimed, while Mash stared at me a bit worriedly, as was the director. Not that I can blame them, though I would never have said that aloud. I had never summoned anywhere close to that amount of ice before, nor used it to deflect such force. Good to know that I can do so in emergencies now, it seems.

“Thanks, Ritsuka. Mind giving me a hand?” I asked, my voice still raspy. I lick my lips instinctively, trying to moisten the dried-out skin. It seems I used up some of the water from my own body. Hopefully the good doctor will have glasses of water as well as snacks of some sort set out and ready for us.

Both Master and Demi-Servant gently grab my arms and help me to feet as the sound of fighting dies down. I raise my head to see Mordred taking a few steps back. I was about to call her name when I notice the blood running down Clarent, and the gaping hole in her father’s armor.

“No matter what I try, I will always be doomed to meet the same fate alone, it seems,” Saber sighed mournfully, looking at us.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chulainn asked, staff gripped tightly in his hands. “Bastard, what do you know?” He demands. The Saber scoffed at that.

“Eventually, you too will realize it, Ireland’s Child of Light. Grand Order…the battle to obtain the Holy Grail has only just begun

“Hey wait! What do you mean by-“ Chulainn began to demand, before suddenly his own body begins to dissolve in that rapidly-familiar golden dust. “Whoa. Ah, crap, I’m getting sent back too? Damn it! I don’t like this, but whatever,” the Caster sighed before turning to Ritsuka and I. “Kids, I’m leaving the rest to you. Next time we meet, one of you had better summoned me as a Lancer!” With that, he too faded away.

Our communication link with Chaldea goes off, but I ignore it, walking over to my Servant cautiously. She hadn’t moved or said anything since impaling her father with Clarent. I extend a hand towards her when I pause, hearing Director Animusphere muttering. I turn to see her with a troubled expression on her face.

“Grand Order…” she repeated, her brow furrowing further. “How did that Servant know that name?”

“Director, is something the matter?” I asked, retracting my hand. In response, the director looked at me like a deer caught in the spotlight.

“Huh? O-oh right. Well done, Aronson, Fujimaru. You two as well, Mash and Mordred. Several points are unclear, sadly, but let’s call this mission complete regardless. First, let’s retrieve that crystal. If it’s the reason why Saber became abnormal, then it must also be the clear reason why Fuyuki City became a singularity,” the white-haired Magus explained to us. Mash nods.

“Yes,” the Demi-Servant, looking a bit better now that she had taken a breather, began. “An immediate retrieval-what?” The source for her confusion was a slow set of claps, mocking us for some reason.

“Well, I didn’t expect any of you would get this far. Beyond my plan’s expectations…and my own tolerance.” My eyes narrowed, focused on the entrance as the masculine voice echoed through the chamber. Behind me, I hear Mordred shift her body. I don’t think whoever else is here is a friend or ally, a sentiment it seems my Servant shares with me.

“Master Candidate Forty-Eight. It seems I was naïve and made the mistake of overlooking you as an improbable child. As for Master Candidate Forty-Nine, who would have ever thought that a simple trip to the restroom could cause such a mess?” A man in a ridiculous green suit and matching top hat enters the chamber. The man looks familiar…

Mash gasped in shock. “Professor Lev?”

The communication link still active and connected allows for me to hear Doctor Romani. “Confirm, did you say that Professor Lev is here?” Lev, Lev, Lev…wait…

“Hm. Is that Romani I hear? It seems you too survived,” Lev commented casually, shaking his head sadly. “I told you to come to the command room immediately, but it seems you didn’t listen…” Lev made a _tut_ sound. This is the guy that Director Animusphere freaked out over not having? Wait…the command room…

“Trash who can’t even follow orders,” Lev sighed. “Just the mere sight of it makes me want to throw up. Why is it that humans always try to avoid their preordained destinies?” The hell is this guy going on about? My tired mind seems to be trying to tell me something when Mordred gripped my shoulder rather tightly.

“Master, I have a bad feeling about this guy,” She whispered. Mash seemed to have reached the same conclusion, forcing herself in front of Ritsuka, a grimace showing.

“Master, fall back! Fall back, please! That person is dangerous… Th…That isn’t the Professor Lev we know!” Didn’t the doctor mention how there were no survivors from the command room? The odds of this man being here must be slim.

Director Animusphere was smiling, however. “Lev! Lev! You’re alive! Oh, thank god for that!” She runs forward, ignoring what the two Servants had just said. “Thank goodness! Without you, I don’t know how I could protect Chaldea!”

“Director, don’t! That man is…” Mash began to plead, but the director wasn’t listening.

“Hello, Olga. You seem well, despite having a rough time too,” The Magus said with a smile that rings false to me. I winced slightly as Mordred squeezes my shoulder.

“That smile… It reminds me of the ones my mother would make…” Mordred muttered.

“Yes, Yes that’s right Lev! The command room blew up, the city’s in ruins, and I can’t return to Chaldea! All of these damn unforeseen complications are driving me crazy! It doesn’t matter now though. After all, with you here, we’ll be fine, right?” Director Animusphere said excitedly, her body shaking in relief. “You’ve always been such a huge help!”

“Of course, I will help. Honestly, all of these complications have irritated me as well. The biggest one, though, has been you, Olga,” Lev said in a cheerful tone, as if he hadn’t just called the woman who looked up to him a pain in the ass. At that point, everything my brain was trying to warn me about ever since he started speaking click together.

An inside job…someone who knew about what was apparently confidential information for only top-ranking Chaldean staff…oh shit!

“Director! Get away from that man! He’s the saboteur!”

“I set the bomb right underneath your feet, and yet you still live,” Lev said at the same time, confirming my warning. I fear it might be too late. I try to run forward, to grab my boss and drag her back over here, but Mordred’s grip is too strong. I can only watch as the director’s expression turns to one of shock, then horror.

“What? L-Lev? Um, wh-what’s that suppose to mean?” Director Animusphere demanded, stuttering in shock. Lev merely smiled before replying.

“Actually, that isn’t exactly true. After all, you’re dead. Or rather, your body is dead. It’s been dead since the bomb went off. Trismegistus thoughtfully transferred you into this land as a residual thought. That means that if you ever return to Chaldea, you will cease to be!”

My body sags in Mordred’s grip as we all realize what the traitor meant. “Wh-What? I’ll vanish? Wait…I can’t return to Chaldea?” Director Animusphere asked, horrified. Again, Lev shoots her that damn smile, acting as if he was caring for a wayward child.

“Indeed. However, that’s too sad a story for you. Instead, how about I show you the fate of the Chaldea you devoted your entire life too.” Lev tossed a small crystal into the air, perhaps the same crystal the director had been instructing us about retrieving, and the damaged ceiling of the cave shifts, showing the burning orb of Sheba. Just like when Ritsuka, Mash, and I were all Rayshifted here.

“Behold your folly! Not a sliver of blue representing human survival remains. Nothing but a burning, bright red. This…this is the outcome of this mission. Isn’t it wonderful, Marie? Once again, your incompetence has brought forth tragedy!”

“But Lev…why?” Suddenly, the director’s body is tugged towards the ceiling. She struggles as Lev continues his mockery.

“I could kill you know, but there’s no grace to that. Instead, I think I shall grant you your final wish. Your wish to be with Chaldea. Granted, it will be little different from a black hole or a sun, but a human touching it would be a hellish disintegration on the molecular level!” A sadistic expression covers the traitor’s face. “By all means, have a taste of infinite living death!

I feel the blood draining from my face, my eyes locked on in horror at Olga Marie Animusphere’s body. A pounding sound pulses against my ear drums, the blood rushing, drowning out everyone else.

No.

No, this can’t be happening.

“No… No, np! Someone help me! Help!” Olga Marie shrieked in terror, tears running down her cheeks as her supposed friend forced her closer to the rift. “I…I don’t wat to die here…”

Her terrified words are the only thing I can hear clearly now. Rocks are dropping from the battered cave roof, as behind me I hear the distorted voices of my comrades shouting, speaking.

“Because I’ve never been praised…I’ve never been praised by anyone. Why? Why does this always happen to me? No one valued me! Everyone hated me!”

“It’s not true,” I whispered feebly. Was the director aggravating? Oh, most certainly. But even at her most bitchiness, she hadn’t ran and abandoned us, no matter how terrified she had been.

“No! Stop! No, no, no, no, no…. I haven’t even accomplished anything yet!” Olga Marie pleaded in vain. Her words seem to tear my insides apart, made all the worse by the fact that I can’t move, can’t fight, can’t save her!

“From the moment I was born, I’ve never been accepted by anyone…”

“DIRECTOR!” Ritsuka howled, held back by a sorrowful Mash as the body of Olga Marie Animusphere vanished into the red glow of Sheba. Out of the corner of my eye, I see as Ritsuka tries to break free from Mash, a murderous rage in his eyes as he howled in anger. An anger that I feel, though crushed by the memory of the director’s last moments.

No one, _no one_ , deserved to die like that.

“No! Don’t do it, Senpai! If you approach that man, you’ll die the same way,” Mash pleaded, wrapping her free arm around his torso. Hand still gripping my shoulder, I can feel Mordred’s body shaking in anger. Lev dismisses the connection he had made, watching us with cruel eyes.

“Impressive, for a Demi-Servant. You have sensed that I am not human, it seems,” Lev chuckled darkly. “Allow me to properly reintroduce myself. My name is Lev Lainur Flauros. I am in charge of the year 2017, sent to dispose of you humans.” The traitor raises his arms up dramatically, like a lead actor on the stage, speaking loudly.

“Are you listening, Doctor Romani? As a friend who studied magecraft with you, let me give you some final advice. Chaldea is finished! Humanity has reached the moment of its destruction! This singularity is not related to the end, but is part of the end!”

What is he…

“The future didn’t just disappear. No, it was incinerated the moment that Chaldea became dyed with crimson! Your end is certain. Your era no longer exists. Those magnetic fields may be protecting Chaldea, but any outside of it will face the same fate as Fuyuki City!” Humanity is gone?

We’re on our own, aren’t we? I start to hyperventilate, my anxiety hitting critical mass. The fire that had been burning after witnessing what this…this _bastard_ did to the director was snuffed out cruelly. I failed to hear what Doctor Romani said in response. I manage to snap back to the present when the entire cave began to shake. Ritsuka and I looked around wildly, worried

“Ah, is this singularity at its limit? Damn that Saber,” Lev muttered in disappointment. “If you’d just obeyed, you would have been allowed to live.” Mordred seemed to have growled at the man. “Even when given the Holy Grail, she caused trouble by wanting to sustain this era. Farewell, Romani. And you, Mash, Candidates Forty-Eight and Forty-Nine. Believe it or not, I still have things to do. That means the enjoyment of your destruction ends here.” Lev turned around and started to walk out of the cavern. Just before he is out of sight, however, he turned his head to leer at us.

“Now, be good children and be swallowed by the dimensional warp. However, since I am not that evil, I’ll allow you to say a final prayer!” With that, he resumes walking to who-knows-where, his cackling echoing around the chamber.

My eyes are fixed right there, as I began to hyperventilate, becoming mute to the entirety of my surroundings as the cave seems to begin to collapse. Then, I start to feel a tingling sensation, similar to when we had been Rayshifted to this Singularity. Did Romani and the rest of the surviving staff at Chaldea completely repair the Rayshift tech?

Are we going to make it?

What are we going to do?

Am I going to survive the Rayshift? Will I wake up, or will it turn out that somehow, I too am already dead like Director Animusphere? The stress finally overcomes me, and my tired body falls limply in the grasp of my Servant, who seemed startled by my reaction.

“Master!”

Then, thankfully, I slip into blissful unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have finished Singularity F! The next few chapters are going to take place in Chaldea, as I do not plan to go jumping straight from one singularity to the next. I hope I didn't mess up using the ice magic stuff. This is actually my first story that I have written where one of the main character uses magic who isn't a canon character and all. Also, here is the list of Servants that can be summoned before the next singularity:
> 
> Artoria, Medea, EMYIA, Sasaki Kojirou, and Medusa
> 
> Feel free to leave in the comments who you would like to see each Servant be summoned for which master, and why, and you may get to see it come true! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you all for all the lvoe you have been giving this story! I will see you all next time!


	6. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company deal with the aftermath of Singularity F

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so several things. First off, we will briefly get to see Mordred's perspective. It will be an experiment I will try a few other times in the next few chapters. Second thing, there is a scene with something of an anxiety attack for a lack of better terms, as a heads-up. Shouldn't be too troubling for readers I hope. Anyways, away we go!

_I blink my eyes rapidly, taking in the surroundings. I appear to be at the rear of a crowd in a Medieval village, almost out of sight. Over the hand waving and cheering of the locals, I could see a number of mounted knights parading slowly down the street. Standing next to me was a young child wearing a brown cloak, the hood drawn._

_I turn my head, and almost coo at the sight of a young Mordred. Lacking the armor (or the revealing clothing she wore under it), her green eyes stare at the knights in admiration. “That is the King of Knights, Arthur?” She asked, her voice softer and more feminine then how it will be in the future. ‘Who is she talking to?’ I thought to myself as the shadows of the alley start to shift. A pair of pale hands reached out and placed themselves on Mordred’s shoulders as a taller blonde appeared._

_“Correct,” She stated. “That’s also the place you should aim for.” Mordred turned to her, a questioning look in her eyes. “And the enemy you must defeat.” Those words clicked into place, and I was able to place a name to the older blonde. Morgan Le Fay, King Arthur’s older half-sister and mortal enemy._

_Mordred looked back to her father with a nauseous look on her face. In my head, I can hear Mordred’s thoughts._

_‘I thought it was impossible. Because the King was beautiful and perfect. That’s why I decided to follow him. I decided to become his sword and eliminate the threats targeting him.’ There was a sense of awe and admiration in those words._

_Then everything begins to fade away…_

* * *

My eyes snap open, and the dull coloring of the ceiling greets me. I turn my head to either side. It seems I am alone, in what looks like a room. I guess we did succeed in being Rayshifted back to Chaldea.

Chaldea…Singularity F…Lev…Director Animusphere. The horrific final events of the Singularity replayed themselves in my head before I shake my head. “Focus on what you just saw while you slept,” I chide myself softly. I push myself up into a sitting position, staring at the closed door.

I took a few minutes to examine further my surroundings. I appear to be alone in a decent-sized room. To the opposite side of the bed is a half-opened door that reveals a small personal bathroom. Another door opposite of the main door denotes the presence of a closet, where I presume is where the items that I had brought when I first arrived in this place were placed while the Master Candidates were being briefed.

Next to the bed was a simple but elegant nightstand made of maple wood. A lamp, a glass of water, and my hat are all resting atop it. I slowly stretched out my right hand, wrapping my fingers around the glass before I start to slowly sip. After spending a day with virtually no water, the water tastes divine to me.

Now fully reassured that I am alive, I take some time to process the dream I had.

Servants and their Masters have the ability to relieve past moments of each other in dreams. I had a gut feeling that Mordred wasn’t an evil person. Maybe it was naïve of me, but I couldn’t imagine Mordred being cruel. But why did she actually rebel? It wasn’t like in the legends, where the unacknowledged son of the King of Knights had undermined the king from day one.

In fact, it doesn’t appear that Mordred hated her father, or at least, not at first. Something must have happened, and it must have been a really bad thing to have caused such an emotional reversal from love and admiration to anger and hatred. I could of course try asking her, but another gut feeling suggested doing so, at least for now, would only cause tension.

Besides, I was intent on judging Mordred not on the past, but instead based on how she was in the present. So far, she has shown that she is dependable.

The urge to use the restroom, however, ends that train of though. I grunt softly, my body still feeling sore from having exerted my Magical Circuits to an unprecedented extent for me. It felt like the aftermath of an intense work-out session at a gym.

After washing my hands, I made my way over to the bed, and sat down onto the mattress, hands clutched together. The traitor said that the outside world was destroyed, but maybe he was just saying that to destroy our morale? My parents are fine, I am sure of it. I grabbed the glass and take a bigger sip of water from it, trying to cool my nerves. I should probably try to find Ritsuka, Mash, and Mordred….

A sudden knock at the door almost causes me to drop the glass as I leapt to my feet instantly. I began to walk over to the door slowly.

“Master?” I freeze at the muffled voice calling from outside before relaxing. I hurried over to the door to see Mordred in front of me, out of her armor, arms crossed under her breasts. Note to self, try to find out when and where I can get a selection of clothing for my Servant.

“Hey Mordred,” I said, trying to smile. Behind her I see Mash, though not in her armor. Instead she was wearing similar clothing to what I had briefly seen her wearing before we all were Rayshifted.

“About time you woke up,” Mordred said, a bit gruffly. Mash chimed in.

“Mordred had been guarding you for the entire morning, Jacob Senpai. Doctor Roman would like to speak with you since you missed the debriefing that he gave to Ritsuka Senpai. They are waiting for you if you are ready,” the Demi-Servant explained. I nodded my head.

“Right. Well, then let’s go. About time we get some answers.” I muttered the last part under my breath as I stepped out into the hallway to follow the two ladies.

* * *

I followed behind Mash and Mordred as we entered the somewhat repaired command room. Just as Mash said, Ritsuka was already there. He wasn’t alone however. A nervous-looking man with ginger hair and wearing a doctor’s uniform was there. Standing next to him, with a small and mischievous smirk, was a woman. It would be fair to say she was outstanding in the looks department, but at the moment my mind is focused on something else. That face and expression look eerily familiar, and I gaped at her when I realize where I had seen it before.

“…does anyone else feel like the Mona Lisa has come to life?” I asked in a stun expression. The woman laughed softly, clearly amused by my reaction. The doctor gave me a sympathetic smile, a sentiment shared by Mash and Ritsuka. Mordred however watches with a guarded expression, clearly uninterested in taking part of the briefing, it seems.

“We haven’t met properly before,” He said apologetically, stepping forward and extending his hand. “I am Doctor Romani Archaman. You can call me Doctor Roman or just Roman instead. I am… _was_ the head of Chaldea’s Medical Department, but as you know, I am now the acting director for Chaldea. Glad to see you are back on your feet.”

“Thanks for coming through on bringing us back safely from that nightmare,” I replied gratefully, shaking his hand. “So, who is our Mona Lisa lookalike?”

“Leonardo, head of Chaldea’s Engineering Department.”

“Another Servant?” Mordred suddenly asked, before I could comment on the name. ‘Leonardo’ nodded, still smiling.

“Right you are. I am the proud inventor of the Renaissance! The one and only Leonardo da Vinci, in the flesh! You can just call me Da Vinci though,” She…he….they(?) proclaimed proudly, hands on hips. I blinked slowly.

 _‘Too early for this,’_ I whined mentally. You know what, screw it. Mordred’s a girl, so let’s just roll with this. Then my earlier comment resurfaces in my head. “Wait…so are you saying that the Mona Lisa is a self-portrait?” Da Vinici opened her mouth before Doctor Roman cuts her off.

“Long story short, Da Vinci decided to be manifested in the form of beauty, and so he decided on the Mona Lisa. It’s complicated,” the acting director finished awkwardly, as the Servant glared at him, arms crossed. Behind them, Ritsuka had a hand over his mouth, possibly to hide a smile or laughter. Mash, having moved over to his side, coughed politely.

“Excuse me, Doctor Roman, but I think we should proceed with filling in Jacob Senpai, seeing as he was still recovering,” Mash said. A grimace crossed Roman’s face as he nodded.

“Right, thanks Mash,” he said, turning back to me. “As you saw, Lev used the Holy Grail to create Singularity F. While that singularity has been fixed, Sheba discovered seven other singularities, spread across the world and in different eras of history. I suspect that there is a connection between each of these singularities and the Holy Grail.”

I perked up. “So what you are suggesting is that the traitor,” I refused to use his name, “managed to acquire the Grail and used it to create them?” Roman nodded in response.

“Correct. If that is the case, then you and Ritsuka will have to find the Grail in each of the singularities and capture or destroy it. Doing so should correct the timeline. Fix all seven, and humanity will last beyond 2018.” Wait…just Ritsuka and I?

“What about the outside world? Is it really gone?” I asked, dreading the answer. A frustrated look showed itself on the doctor’s face before he answered.

“We have gotten communications back up and running, but we haven’t been able to get through. It seems that Lev was telling the truth, at least for the rest of the world. That means that we will have only our remaining staff members and any other Servants that may be summoned to support the two of you.”

I feel my stomach knot itself up into a pretzel. “What about the other Master Candidates? Can any of them help us out?” Roman shakes his head mournfully before responding.

“Sadly, we can’t. Many of them were badly injured by the bomb, and so waking them up would be essentially a death sentence. We need to have more professionals and the right equipment to ensure that we don’t have any more of the Candidates dying. As of this morning, three have died.”

The anxiety and stress that has been mounting ever since I came to here was about to erupt. I need to leave. I need to be alone. Now.

“I-I need to go,” I stammered, turning around and walking rapidly before any of the others could ask or even acknowledge my statement.

* * *

Mordred frowned as her master walked briskly out of the room. The fact that his shoulders had tensed up, and his face turning a mixture of pale and green did not go unnoticed by the others.

“Is he ok?” Fujimaru asked, while Roman and Da Vinci exchanged looks. Mash gave her Master a deadpan look that Mordred would have laughed at were it not for her own concern for her Master. The fate of the last Master that had summoned was replaying itself in her head.

She’s not going to allow another Master to die. Not if she can do anything about it, at least.

“I’ll handle this,” the Knight of Rebellion said. Ritsuka opened his mouth, probably wanting to offer to help or something. Mash gently rested a hand on his shoulder and shook her head silently. She seemed to be someone she would have an easier time to work with as opposed to the damn bastard that had helped the girl became a Demi-Servant. The Knight of Rebellion turned around, and headed toward the exit, pausing briefly as the doctor spoke up to the Caster Servant.

“Da Vinci, you said earlier that the candidate profiles were still intact, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Can you help me find the one for Jacob?”

“I can, but why?”

“There’s something I need to check. I’m still the medical doctor of Chaldea, acting director or not. That includes mental health.”

“…I’ll start looking for them.” Mordred then left the command room, searching for her Master.

* * *

I had almost sprinted down the empty hallway, thankful that none of the surviving staff was around. I’d have probably knocked them off their feet as I moved instinctively, my eyes fighting back tears as I finally stopped and leaned against a wall, body shaking.

Almost everyone who could be a master is dead or in a coma. The fate of humanity is going to rest on the shoulders of Ritsuka and I. I came here to be used as a spare if needed, they said. They shouldn’t need such an unskilled Magus.

I slide down the wall, my body shaking further. I know what is coming. The feelings of doubt and despair.

“Hey, master…you alright?”

I’m going to let myself down. I’m going to let Ritsuka and Mash down. I’m going to let my parents down. I’m going to let humanity down.

“Master?”

I won’t get to see my family again or home. I’m going to prove myself to be an utter failure! I have of-

A hand grips my shoulder firmly, jolting me out of my thoughts. I blink my eyes rapidly as I try to take deep breaths while my servant looks down at me.

“What’s wrong?” Even in my state of mind, I could tell that this was a demand, not a question. She looked like she wasn’t afraid of doing whatever it takes to get her way, whether I want to cooperate or not.

“Nothing…” Regardless if it was a demand or a question, I tried to avoid discussing the issue. It’s not worth the energy. _‘I’m not worth the energy._ ’ It certainly didn’t work in tricking my Servant either.

“Bullshit,” Mordred growled, crossing her arms and staring intently at me. “I’m not letting my master get himself killed on the field if he might freeze up like you did. I’m not going to fade away again just because my master did something stupid that got himself killed. So, I’m not moving a damn muscle until you spill.” Her emerald eyes bored into mine, the intensity forcing me to look down at my feet.

“I’m scared,” I murmur, unable to look my Servant in the eye. I forced down the urge to return to cradling my legs and rocking back and forth, trying to maintain at least some of my dignity. “I’m scared of failing. Scared of showing that I am a failure. I hear my servant make a grunting sound. She’s probably going to refuse to work alongside me, and demand that-

“You damn idiot,” she sighed. My eyes flick up to her, confused. “This is the first time you’ve had people seriously rely on you, isn’t it?” I nod quietly, not trusting my voice. Mordred sighed again. “Well, I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. It’s not going to get any easier. You’ll learn to cope with it though.” The advice might have felt rather obvious, but sometimes,

“Besides,” Mordred gives me a smirk. “You’re not alone. You have Ritsuka as a fellow master. And of course you got one of the best damn servants at your side. Once we fix everything, you can tell your family about how you saved the world.”

My family….

If I give up….then they are as good as gone.

I sighed. Having calmed down, I push myself up off the ground. “Thanks, Mordred. I guess not many people can say they have fought alongside the heir of England’s most famous king now, can they?” I smile, albeit weakly, at the blonde girl.

“That’s more like it. So, where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Ah, that is a fine story-“ I start before being cut off by my stomach growling. “How about we grab some food first before I tell that tale?” I asked instead, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. Mordred laughs.

“Fine. Mash showed me earlier, so just follow me.”

* * *

Chaldea’s cafeteria was a pleasant-looking area, far better than my old high school lunch area for sure. It was also one of the few places that hadn’t been damaged. Thankfully, at least from some perspectives I presumed, the kitchen staff for the facility had also escaped intact. I had inquired as to how food was ordered and whatnot, and upon receiving my answer, Mordred and I had ordered. In about five minutes, our food was ready and we sat at a table.

“So, you fenced in high school?” Mordred asked before taking a large bite out of the cheeseburger that she had ‘requested’ (more like demanded). While Servants did not need to eat food like they had to when they were alive, that didn’t mean they couldn’t do so, or enjoy food. I nod, reflecting back on some of my happier memories as I hold my own cheeseburger.

“Yeah. It seemed like something that could stabilize myself. Came in third place two years ago. Maybe we should have a friendly spar sometime,” I offer. Maybe, instead of just being essentially work partners, Mordred and I could be friends? The blonde knight blinks, surprise showing on her face for just a fraction of a second before her usual smirk returns.

“Sure, as long as you are willing to have your ass handed to you.”

“It will be an honor to fight a true knight, win or lose,” I reply. Mordred’s nature must be starting to rub off of me, though that is not necessarily a bad thing in this case. I’m rewarded with a soft laugh.

“So, we’ll watch one another’s back, if that sounds good to you?” I offer, extending a hand. For the second time since returning, I seemed to have stunned the supposed Knight of Treachery. Last time, she hadn’t returned the gesture. However, after having gotten to know each other a little better, perhaps, she gave me her signature smirk.

“I’ll be counting on you then, Master!” She said smugly before slapping my open palm with hers. I smiled while fighting down the urge to wince. Withdrawing my hand, I hid it under the table before shaking it a few times to dull the stinging sensation. Well, forward progress is forward progress, no matter what.

A polite cough causes me to turn around to see Ritsuka smiling cautiously at me. “Hey Jacob…you doing ok?” Behind him, Mash watches silently. I nod, a wry smile on my face.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s been a lot to deal with, you know?” I said honestly. Could I be doing better? Absolutely. But considering my earlier state, I think being ok is a good start. “So, what are you and Mash up to?” I asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from focusing on my breakdown.

“Well, we were actually wanting to see if maybe you and Mordred would like to have dinner tonight with us?” I raised an eyebrow, interested in what they were saying. Not sensing any sign of his suggestion being dismissed, my fellow Master continued speaking. “I just thought that we should get to know each other. Since, you know, the whole ‘we have to save the world’ stuff Roman was saying and all.”

That honestly sounded like a wonderful idea. Mordred’s words of not having to face this issue on my own echoed in my head. I turn to the blonde knight with a questioning look. She responded with an indifferent shrug, indicating that she didn’t care whether I agreed with Ritsuka’s suggestion or not. I look back to the Japanese Magus.

“Sure. How does five sound?” Ritsuka smiled at my response. Behind him, Mash smiled shyly, the

“So, what are the two of you going to do?” I didn’t answer Mash’s question directly. Instead, remembering an earlier promise, I asked a question of my own.

“Is there someone in the surviving staff who is a tailor?”

“Yes.”

Good. “Do you mind introducing us to them after Mordred and I finishing eating?” Mash looked confused at my question before slowly nodding.

“Sure, though if you don’t mind me asking, why?” I turned my head so as to indicate my rather scantily-clad Servant.

“I offered to buy Mordred some actual clothing that she,” I gulped silently at the subtle glare my Servant shot at me at the mention of her gender, “could wear when we are here in Chaldea. Kind of like how you are not wearing your armor.” Mash nodded in understanding.

“Understood. In that case, I will check with Doctor Roman to see if Isabella is ok with going back to work.” Then she stood up and left the cafeteria, Ritsuka following her. Mordred looked at me. I simply shrugged as I took another bite of my burger. After chewing and swallowing, I spoke up.

“Hey, I made an offer that you accepted.” The Knight of Rebellion merely shook her head, laughing.

“You’re an interesting one alright,” Mordred said before finishing her food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things I want to mention. First off, I want to thank everyone once again for supporting the story through your bookmarking, subscribing, and leaving reviews and kudos. Big shoutout to Zlatz for providing me with some angles I might nto have fully considered for some future Servant interactions, and a thanks to both them and Majesticid for the feedback on the Servant battle scenes :)
> 
> Now, the other things I wanted to mention. The reason I had the breakdown scene is because I figured that it would be rather logical a thing to happen to anyone who had to go through half of what happened in Singualrity F. However, Fate/Grand Order sorta glosses over any idea of stress or whatnot, at least to me, for the Master. Also, I am going to have the Servants from series like Fate/Apocrypha have at least some of their memories from the Grail Wars they took part in. Next chapter we will be getting to see some proper background with Ritsuka and Jacob, and also a few new Servants being summoned!
> 
> Also, I am sorry if parts of this chapter feel choppy. I had a hard time figuring out how to introduce Jacob to Da Vinci in a way that didn't feel like a repeat to the in-game scene. Also, Mordred's finally going to get a proper outfit for wearing around Chaldea. Let me know down below if you think I should go with her Fate/Apocrypha outfit or something different.
> 
> Last thing: who is your least favorite Servant and why? Curious to hear about this. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Until next time!


	7. Downtime I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred meet Chaldea's seamstress Magus, we get to learn a bit about Jacob and Ritsuka, and some new servants are summoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Hope you enjoy and author notes below for reading.

I raised an eyebrow at the sign over the door. In bright green were the words _‘Isabella’s Imaginations’_ , the words written in cursive. Besides me, Mordred shared a similar skeptical expression. On my other side, Mash stepped forward and knocked on the door. A muffled voice shouted out. “Coming,” A feminine voice with a British accent said. A few minutes later, and I find myself blinking at the woman now standing before us.

She was rather tall, though whether the black leather boots she wore helped with that, I wasn’t sure. Her dark brown hair was done up in a loose ponytail, though it wasn’t anywhere near as messy as Mordred’s. Blue eyes sparkled in excitement behind a set of glasses as her gaze focused on Mordred, still in her ‘under armor’.

“Ah, so this is the new Servant in Chaldea, and you must be one of the new Masters. My name is Isabella Ruben.” Her eyes narrowed as I suddenly find a rather long needle pointing at my face. “If you make any remarks about what kind of sandwiches I like, I’ll fillet you like a fish. Got it?” I gulped and nodded, stepping back as the woman tossed the needle casually over her shoulder, the smile from just a few seconds before back on her features, acting like she hadn’t just threatened bodily harm.

What the hell kind of seamstress is this lady?!? Next to me, Mash cleared her throat politely. “Jacob Senpai, I will leave you and Mordred here. I look forward to dinner tonight,” She said with a smile.

“I look forward to it as well. See you later, Mash,” I replied, still eyeing Isabella warily as she circled around Mordred, a thoughtful expression on her face. Mordred’s expression, however, was one screaming of discomfort, a mutual feeling.

“I’ve been dying to make clothes for a Heroic Spirit ever since I started working here at Chaldea! Gah, it took too long if you asked me, but hey, better late than never!” She said, words coming out like water bursting through a dam. The expression on her face slowly morphed into something that some might describe it as almost ecstasy. I shudder slightly, the urge to get away increasing.

“Alrighty then. I’ll leave the two of you alone. Just give Mordred the bill and I’ll pay for it later. I should start unpacking my stuff,” I said, glad to have an excuse to escape from the scary lady. Next to me, Mordred stiffens, staring at me with wide eyes.

 _“Master, don’t leave me alone with her”_ Mordred mouthed frantically to me. I shake my head sadly, stepping back.

“Have fun!”

“You son of—” Before Mordred could finish cussing me out, Isabella pulled on her arm with a surprising amount of strength, dragging the knight into her shop and closing the door behind them. Hopefully, Mordred won’t murder Isabella…or me for that matter. Oh well, nothing I can do about that for now.

I turned around and began walking back to my room. After a few minutes, however, I paused as I realized that I hadn’t memorized the way that Mash had lead Mordred and I to Isabella’s workshop.

Well, crap.

* * *

Note to self: Find out if there is a map of Chaldea, and if so, acquire one. I was lost for what felt like an hour before I ran into one of other surviving staff members. Thankfully, they gave me instructions on how to get back to my room finally.

On the bright side, I now know where the gym and a few other locations were, so hey, silver lining and all. I shake my head, bemused by my train of thoughts as I open the door to my room.

Flicking the switch, I walked in and made my way over to the closet. Opening it up, I noticed several things. The first was that a spare Master Candidate uniform was hanging, along with what I presumed was a standard-issued, heavy-duty winter jacket for anyone daring enough to step outside of Chaldea into the frigid snow outside. The other thing are my two duffel bags that I had brought with me from home. I picked up the two bags and placed them onto my bed before unzipping the first one.

I had packed several pairs of jeans and t-shirts, a pair of gym clothing, socks, and some basic toiletry items. Mom had been insistent about also bringing a simple white dress shirt and black pants for any potential formal occasions. I had argued about how ludicrous that sounded to me, but in the end, I had packed a pair. I spent the next five or so minutes placing my clothes into the dresser that was in the room. Once that was finished, I decided to take a shower, wanting to wash off properly. After drying myself off, brushing my hair, and putting on a fresh t-shirt and jeans, I then returned and unzipped the second bag.

If one were to ask which of the two bags were more important to me, I would have to say the second one. In this bag, I had packed personal items. A few books on history, my computer, an MP3 player and headphones, and some DVDs. My family was one that would be considered unorthodox in the moonlight world, being willing to use modern technology, unlike many of the more prominent Magi families. I had also brought a picture of my parents and I, to help me deal with any bouts of homesickness while I was at Chaldea.

Now, it would be yet another reminder of what’s at stake. I picked up the picture frame, and walked over to my nightstand, looking at the proud expressions of my parents as their son graduated from high school.

I was about to put the picture down when the door opened suddenly, startling me. I almost threw the picture up in the air by accident as a familiar voice spoke up.

“What ya got there, Master?”

“Gah! Can you try knocking next time?” I asked, putting the picture down properly this time, one hand over my racing heart to calm myself. To my mild annoyance, my Servant let out a brief bark of laughter.

“Oh, relax Master. So, what do you think?” I turned around to see what Isabella had made for Mordred. The first reaction that I had was confusion. If she hated being referred to by her gender, then why the hell does she insist on wearing clothing that highlights the fact that she is a woman?!?

A wide, toothy grin on her face and hands on her hips, Mordred prodded me. “Well?” She asked. Instead of almost Medieval lingerie, she had gotten a white tube top with blue trimming, and one of the shortest pair of shorts I think I have ever seen in my life. Completing the outfit was a crimson leather jacket. Instead of the red choker-like thing she wore under her armor, she had a simple necklace with a blue stone inset. Contradictory to her words or not, the outfit she got seems to suit her perfectly.

“It suits you,” I finally said, being rewarded with a pleased expression from the shorter blonde. “Glad to see you have something to wear when we have down time and all. Did Isabella give you the bill?” I asked. Mordred shook her head as she walked over.

“Nah. She said that she would just take it out of your paycheck. Apparently, all the Master Candidates get salary while being employed by Chaldea,” she explained. Huh. Well, that certainly is convenient. “Anyways, thanks again for the outfit. It really feels great.”

I smiled at those words, pleased. “That’s great to hear,” I said, as the Saber walked over to look at the picture I had placed there. She cocked her head to the side briefly before speaking.

“Those your parents?” She asked.

“Yeah. From when I graduated high school earlier this year. After yesterday, it feels like it was a few years ago, instead of a few months,” I sighed. Mordred nudged me with her elbow slightly before I could brood or anything.

“Hey, don’t worry Master. We’re going to win this,” Mordred said in her typical proud and confident tone. I returned a faint smile as I nodded my head. “On another note, if you ever leave me alone with that crazy Magus ever again, I’ll kick your ass so hard you won’t sit down

Well, at least that wasn’t anywhere close to being as bad as I was expecting to hear. I nodded my head. “It was that bad, huh?” I asked, curious. Mordred sighed and plopped herself down onto my bed, thankfully missing my electronics. I move them off the bed as I listened to my Servant ranting about how Isabella made her feel like a slab of beef, or a mannequin to be displayed before she finally got the clothes she was now wearing to be made.

I shook my head in mild amusement after the Knight of Rebellion finished her diatribe. “Well, hey, on the bright side, you did get the clothes you wanted. Although, if you don’t mind me asking, is there a particular reason behind your choice?” The fact that Mordred didn’t immediately dismiss my question was rather telling. Before she could answer, however, there is another knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said, turning around as Mash and Ritsuka entered. The latter takes a quick second to notice Mordred’s outfit before speaking up.

“Nice outfit,” he said, stroking her ego apparently as her trademark smirk grew.

“Damn right.”

“Doctor Roman wanted to know if you were up for trying to summon another Servant or two along with Ritsuka after dinner. Since we won’t be deploying for the first of the singularities until the end of the week, he thought that it would be a good idea if all Servants had time to practice working alongside one another. The doctor also said it would be a good way to start working out any issues our Servants might have amongst one another,” Mash explained. I hummed softly in thought.

It certainly made sense. I looked over at Mordred, who had a rather neutral expression on her face. “Yeah, that’s fine. Now, enough about work, at least for now. Let’s eat.”

* * *

There was a bit of an awkward silence between us. Well, rather between Ritsuka, Mash, and I. Mordred just has a bored look on her face, seemingly uninterested in conversation. We all agreed that it would be a good idea to get to know one another, but it seems that we are all unsure of who should go first.

One of the kitchen staff walks over, holding a tray bearing our dishes. The silence is still present as our meals are placed before us.

“So, who talks first? You talk first, I talk first?” I asked softly, cutting off a slice of my steak. Seeing that the inside was a soft red, I brought the slice to my lips and eat it. Ritsuka picked up his chopsticks and shrugged.

“While, since you brought the question up first, why don’t you go?” He said, pointing towards me with his chopsticks. I nodded in response as I finished chewing the portion of steak. I swallowed before replying with words.

“Ah, fair enough. Well, I’m a Magus hailing from America. Just completed high school when a representative from the Clock Tower met with me. Before I know it, I’m being given an offer that, to paraphrase an old movie, I couldn’t refuse.” I’m rewarded with laughter from Ritsuka, though Mordred and Mash both had a look of confusion on their faces.

“I’m from Japan, obviously. Just simply applied after seeing a flyer and that’s how I got here. I guess that meant that Chaldea thought I would be useful,” he shrugged. “So, what’s up with your summoning of ice?”

“My family focused on working with natural elements. It’s a small and rather informal kind, so we just used it when needed. I decided to go with ice because I thought it would be useful. I guess I was right. Now, all I have to do is to practice summoning and controlling ice bigger than an ice cube. What about you? What’s your specialty?” I asked in response.

“My family focused on being able to give temporary enhancements to oneself or others. For example, I could give a temporary boost to Mordred’s strength if she required it. Any siblings?” I shook my head.

“Nope. Only child. What about you two?”

“I’m also an only child, Jacob Senpai.”

“I have a twin sister,” Ritsuka replied, pulling out a flip phone. Ah, so it seems that my fellow Master is able to use at least some modern tech as well. That’s great to know. After pressing a few buttons, he turned the phone around to show a picture of him with a smiling girl with orange hair.

“I’m assuming the two of you weren’t fraternal twins then,” I idly commented, staring at the smiling faces. Ritsuka chuckled in response.

“No. Her name is Gudako. She had actually applied for Chaldea at the same time that I did. It seems we both would have been accepted, but apparently because my application was received first, I got the job. She was upset that she didn’t get it, but she didn’t hold it against me. Of course, now I am wondering if she was the lucky one considering what happened yesterday,” Ritsuka muttered darkly, putting away his phone.

“Don’t worry. We’ll see our families again,” I reminded my fellow Master. Ritsuka nodded, features resolute. I looked toward Mash. “What about you, Mash?” The quiet girl blinked, eyes wide.

“Oh! I’ve just been here in Chaldea for most of my life, really,” Mash said, sounding rather evasive to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mordred leaning forward slightly.

“Huh, interesting….so what is your job exactly?” I asked, trying to press further on the issue. For a brief moment, there seems to be a panicked expression on her face

“Ah, I am just Doctor Roman’s assistant, really.” I resisted frowning, having a feeling that she is lying. However, at least for now, I’ll drop the issue. For all I know, it could be a major trust issue thing. In that case, the best way to deal with it would be to just wait and see.

“Well, one thing about us working at Chaldea is that it would look good on our resumes. Saviors of humanity,” Ritsuka interjected with a chuckle. I snort in amusement.

“Well, it’s not like you applied to Chaldea thinking it was a summer job or something similar for a college resume, right?” I laughed. It doesn’t last long as Ritsuka’s cheeks flushed, looking down at his plate. My jaw dropped slightly as I stared at my fellow Master. Mordred’s bored expression morphed into one of incredulity, while Mash merely shook her head and sighed.

“…In my defense, the advertisement left out a number of details about what I was signing up for,” Ritsuka finally said, rubbing his head awkwardly. Recovering from my shock, I let out a soft bark of laughter.

“Did you read the small print on the back?” I joked, causing Ritsuka eyes to widen. Before he could start panicking, however, I continued speaking. “I’m kidding. Honestly, there are worse reasons for why you could have applied here. Besides, it doesn’t matter, or at least to me. We’re in this together, all four of us.” I gazed around my group of newly-acquired friends with a smile, grabbing my glass of water. Raising it up, I smirked.

“To victory, friendship, and saving humanity.” Three other glasses clinked against mine, my words being echoed as our meal continued. Our conversation was livelier now, with Mordred even joining in every now and then. It seems Ritsuka’s idea worked out, something I am incredibly grateful for.

* * *

“So basically, we use these things called Saint Quartz as catalysts to summon Servants? Wouldn’t it be better to go with the more traditional way of using items as catalysts?” I asked, staring at the colorful, star-like object Da Vinci was putting into the machine that was used for summoning.

“It was Olga Marie’s father who came up with it. Honestly, it just works, which is useful since a lot of items that could have been used for summoning rituals have disappeared in the past few years,” Roman explained with a shrug.

After we had finished dinner, Mash had led us to what she called the summoning chamber. The carved lines are similar to the glowing ones that Director Animusphere had summoned when she used Mash’s shield back in Singularity F, except for being more permanent.

Standing by the door, arms crossed, was Mordred. She had summoned her armor back, but the helmet was absent, at least for now. She had fallen silent after dinner. If I had to guess, maybe she is on edge about if her father was to be summoned? Honestly, I hope that doesn’t happen, or at least, not yet. I turned to Ritsuka. He was going tot try two summons, while I would go with just one.

“Well, since I summoned Mordred last time, why don’t you go first?” He nodded and walked over as Da Vinci and Roman readied the machine. Then my fellow master pulled the handle of a lever that the former had indicated, and a familiar set of light bands appears over the circle.

The bands of light fade, and I lowered my hand to see a woman of medium height and in dark green and purple robes. Her lips, with purple coloring, were tilted upward in a small smirk, indicating her amusement. Whether it was the good or bad type of amusement was unknown, however, as the cowl of her robe hid the upper half of her face. She turned her head slightly to Ritsuka, examining him for a second before speaking.

“Medea, Caster. My, you’re a rather cute one, Master,” the Caster teased, causing Ritsuka to blush and stammer. I snickered softly at the fate of my friend before stepping over, having seen Roman signal that they were ready for my turn at summoning.

A few minutes later, and a man with purple hair and what appeared to be a massive Katana slung over his back stood before us. He was garbed in what appeared to be traditional Japanese clothing. He looks at me before speaking in a calm and composed voice.

“I am Sasaki Kojirou, an Assassin-class Servant. I have been called upon to your service,” my new Servant said. His eyes narrowed when he notices Medea. The Caster stopped teasing Ritsuka and stares back, her hackles raised. Huh, so this must be what a Servant with E-rank luck must feel like.

Before blows could be dealt, however, Ritsuka made his way over to the machine, pulling the lever one last time. The flashing of lights causes the two new arrivals to look as three bands of light appear once more.

As once more the lights faded away, I notice the striking blue hair in a ponytail, though cut in a slightly different manner. Instead of robes and a staff, however, there was a close-fitting set of blue armor and a long, red spear with several barbs on either side just below the tip.

“Ah, good job kid! You summoned me in my proper class this time,” the Irish Servant grinned happily. Stepping off of the platform, his face has a look of interest on his face. “Assassin and Caster are here as well? Did someone schedule a Grail War reunion or something?” Chulainn asked.

Ah, so the other two new Servants did indeed know each other apparently. I’m not sure if this will be convenient or just complicate things. I cleared my throat, getting the attention of the three Servants. For a brief moment, I almost felt like wilting beneath the stares of the powerful beings before me, but I swallow my hesitation.

“Welcome to Chaldea. I am Jacob Aronson.” Ritsuka spoke up after that, catching on to what I was trying to do. He walked up to my side, a friendly smile on his lips.

“And I am Ritsuka Fujimaru. We are your Masters.”

“And we are honored that you answered the call to save humanity,” I finished as I felt Mordred and Mash position themselves besides us, probably as a sign of support. I remember the traitor’s words after what he did to Director Animusphere, and how we were doomed. “Let’s show our foes the will to resist!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as always, several things. First off, we have now reached the one month anniversary since the first chapter was published. Once again, thank you guys so much for the support! Second off, what do you think of Isabella Ruben? She was someone I created with the help of my adopted older sister, who gave her the more.....eccentric traits. Sorry if any of the dialogue felt forced, though I am sure it is just me being paranoid about doing poorly lol
> 
> Also, what did you think of the interactions in the past two chapters between both Jacob and Mordred and also Jacob and Ritsuka?
> 
> Final thing. I plan on asking a question at the end of each chapter, like how with the last one I asked about dislike Servants, mainly because I enjoy hearing other people's responses and thoughts about the Fate franchise. Today's question is this: who do you think is better as a character overall, Mordred or Artoria, or do you think they are equal?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and see y'all next time!


	8. Orleans: Hundred Years' War of the Evil Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the First Singularity!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, two things. First off, there is a time skip, and I will explain it at the end notes. Secondly, I translated the dialogue in-game of the French soldiers into French, so for those who haven't played the game, just feel free to use google translate. Now, enjoy! :)

I grunted as I brought my blade up to block the vicious swing from the side. I stepped backwards, but my opponent doesn’t give me the opportunity to gain any space between us. Twisting my body to the left, I deflected the sword thrust with mine.

Ok, another note to self: Sparring with Mordred is a _bad_ idea!

Grinning wildly before me, Mordred swung her practice sword again. A dull pain erupts in my arms as my own practice sword rattled in my hands from the shock of impact.

Ugh…how did I end up in this position?

* * *

_“Agh! There’s nothing to do today!” Mordred whined, acting more like a petulant child than the knight that she was. It took a massive amount of will power to not laugh as she crossed her arms._

_“Well, you could always try sparring using that combat simulation stuff Mash and Da Vinci told us about?” I said instead. This was rewarded with a dramatic groan and a theatrical eyeroll by my Servant._

_“But it’s boring alone!” She complained, making my earlier observation over her behavior become even more accurate. Fortunately, an idea pops into my head._

_“Well, I did mention the idea of trying to spar sometime. Why don’t we do that, as long as you don’t go full-out on me as you would against another Servant?” Mordred smiled a bit savagely at that, standing up excitedly._

_“You’re on, Master!”_

* * *

Ah. That’s right. Next time, se if Mordred would rather watch a movie or something! I am all for bonding with the Saber and all, but good god she hits like a truck on steroids. I spend the next few seconds still on the defensive before the Knight of Rebellion finally managed to knock my sword out of my hands before holding the blunt end towards my throat. I raised my hands in surrender, panting slightly.

“Ok, I concede. That’s what, 0-7?”

“0-8,” Mordred smirked as she lowered her sword, and I my hands. “Thanks for helping me kill some time. I just have a hard time sitting still and doing nothing, ya know?” I shoot my Servant a dry look.

“I can tell,” I said in a deadpan tone that causes Mordred to laugh a bit sheepishly. I run a hand through my sweat-stained locks of hair, pushing them out of my eyes. Maybe I should get them cut soon. “Well, it’s time to call it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the Rayshift.”

“You got it, Master. Night,” she said as we left. On the way to my room, I reflected on the events of the week since the dinner.

The past few days had been rather chaotic. For one thing, the surviving staff of Chaldea had to figure out how to function with a severely-depleted staff with little to no chance of getting replacements for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, it seems that Da Vinci had been in the process of manufacturing a rather substantial amount of robotic drones that could help run the more mundane things, allowing for the human staff to focus on more specialized tasks. We also still had the vast majority of supplies that had been stored before the explosion, which meant that we had enough food, water, and power for at least several years, according to Doctor Roman. Of course, the other issue was with the new Servants Ritsuka and I had summoned.

Apparently, Medea, Sasaki, and Chulainn had all been summoned in a Holy Grail War. Out of the three of them, however, Chulainn seemed to have been the most laid back about this, exuding an aura of cautioned calm. The real trouble was mainly between the Caster and Assassin.

Chulainn had been rather tight-lipped about the exact details of what had happened to the various Servants and their Masters during the historical events of the Fifth Holy Grail War of Fuyuki, but he did reveal that Medea had been able to summon Sasaki, and that for various reasons the two were hostile to each other, though it was mostly a passive-aggressive manner. The two Servants had said that they would put their differences aside when it came to work, but until that happens, Ritsuka and I were going to be keeping a close eye on them.

When I arrived at my room, I quickly stripped out of my sweaty clothes and hopped into the shower to clean up before going to bed. Once I have finished showering, getting dressed, and all the other stuff necessary, I made my way over to my bed. “Tomorrow is going to be a big day. Let’s not screw things up,” I muttered to myself, still a bit nervous.

Shaking my head, I eased my body into my bed, pulling the covers over myself and closing my eyes, eventually falling asleep.

* * *

Another night without dreams. Thankfully, that meant that I was fully rested and recovered from the sparring with Mordred last evening. That’s a relief. I look at the alarm clock, seeing that I have just enough time to have breakfast and then get dressed before we had to meet up in the command room.

Unlike the past few days, I didn’t have my meal with Mordred, Mash, or Ritsuka. When I returned to my room, I silently put on my Chaldea uniform. I then pull out my boots I had brought and laced them up, making sure that they fitted comfortably. Finally, I grabbed my cap and reached for a pin that I had placed on my nightstand, next to the picture of my family.

It was a parachute between two stylized wings, the badge of a paratrooper. It had belonged to my grandfather from when he served in the Second World War, and he had given to me. I pinned it against the front of my cap, and then my cap on my head. I looked at the smiling faces of my parents.

“Don’t worry mom and dad, I’ll see you guys again,” I said aloud. Then I turned around and headed to the command room. When I arrive, I see that everyone else was already there. Well, at least I won’t have to wait before being sent off to who-knows-where.

“Good Morning Mash, Ritsuka, and Jacob. You guys ready for your first mission?” Doctor Roman asked us, smiling slightly. We nodded before I spoke up.

“Morning, Doc. So, where are we headed?”

“Straight to business then. Sheba has indicated that the first singularity is in France sometime in the 15th Century. Unfortunately, we’re unable to give you the exact year, but once you all arrive safely you should be able to find out,” Roman explained. I hummed in thought. Well, at least we won’t be going in completely blind.

“Any idea of what is the cause of the disruption?” Ritsuka asked, receiving a slight shake of the head from the acting director.

“Sadly, we don’t. However, it doesn’t seem to be a massive disruption, so to speak. Hopefully, it shouldn't be _too_ challenging, especially since the two of you will have Mash and the other Servants to support you. Plus, don’t forget about any possible Servants you might meet who are friendly.”

Hopefully whoever it will be won’t be a perverted Caster like Chulainn had been. I then notice that Mash had a small knapsack, but before I can ask about it, Roman explained about how it contained a few days worth of food and water, in case we can’t find anything to eat or drink in the singularity. It was reassuring to know that we had something to rely on if that did happen.

“Ok, so this time, the two of you will be using the coffins to Rayshift into the first singularity. This should allow for future Rayshifts to be done faster and safely,” Roman explained as we walked over to a set of said equipment. I eye them nervously. While I highly doubt that the events that occurred the last time these devices were used, the idea of being inside so small an enclosed metal container was very…unappealing, to say the least. However, I said nothing, deciding to trust the staff of Chaldea.

“What about our Servants?” I said instead.

“They will be using coffins as well,” Da Vinci’s voice said over the P.A. Mordred, Medea, Sasaki, and Chulainn all exchanged looks before walking over to some of the other coffins. I take a deep breath before walking other to mine.

“Well, see you guys on the other side,” I said nervously before strapping in and closing my eyes, waiting to be sent back in time.

* * *

Opening my eyes, I blinked rapidly, raising my right arm to block some of the sunlight. I turned my head, taking in the surrounding area. “Well, looks like the Rayshift was successful,” I commented idly.

We appeared to be standing in a field. Unlike in Singularity F, however, nothing seems to be an issue. No burning buildings, undead skeletons, or corrupted Servants.

“You feeling ok, Master?” Mordred asked, walking over to me. Looking over her shoulder, I see that the other Servants were spread out in a loose circle, observing the scenery. I nodded.

“Yeah. What about you?” Mordred grunted in response.

“We’re going to look around, but we won’t be far. You ok with that?” I nodded my consent.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll go check in with Ritsuka and Mash. Once we establish a connection with Chaldea, we’ll start planning our first move,” I said. Mordred nodded in approval before walking over to the other Servants. There still seemed to be some tension still between the three newer Servants, but thankfully it seems that they were going to focus on fixing the timeline.

“You guys ok?” I asked as I walk over to the duo. Ritsuka finishes patting his body down before sighing with relief.

“Yeah, it seems so,” my fellow Master replied.

“Fou! Fou! Fou!” I turned towards Mash, and arched an eyebrow at seeing Fou standing next to the Demi-Servant. Apparently he must have hidden himself in the rucksack Mash was carrying for our supplies. I was wondering where he was this morning…

“Fou?” Mash asked, clearly startled. “Did you tag along again?” To his credit, the dog-like critter seemed to be a little apologetic.

“Fou…” he whined. “Kyuu, kyao…” I swear to god, it feels like Fou was trying to speak. Ritsuka scratched his head.

“Did he sneak into Mash’s coffin?” He asked. I sighed, cupping my face with one hand.

“Seems so. Okay, does anyone else want to announce their pretense?” I asked in a loud, rhetorical voice. Just in case someone did respond, I swiveled my head, letting out a sigh of relief to see nothing responding to my challenge. “Now that’s been answered, it seems he arrived safely,” I observed.

“What about when we complete the singularity, though?” Ritsuka asked.

“Since he is attached to one of us, he will automatically return alongside of us,” Mash explained.

“So then this won’t be a problem, right?” Ritsuka asked. Mash nodded, a stern expression on her face.

“Correct. We share the same fate.” Nothing new there. I crossed my arms, eager to get moving.

“So, Mash, what year is it?” I asked. Mash didn’t reply immediately, before pulling out her wrist device, the same kind Ritsuka and I also had.

“I have confirmed the time axis coordinates. We are indeed in France during the year of 1431. “It means we’re in the middle of the Hundred Years’ War.” Ritsuka cocked his head at that.

“Um, the what now?” Mash opened her mouth to explain, but I cut her off.

“The Hundred Years’ War was a series of conflicts fought between the House of Plantagenet ruling England and the House of Valois ruling France over the throne of the French Kingdom. However, the war was actually one hundred and sixteen years long and was broken up into three main segments separated by truces. The phase of the war we are in is suppose to be a period of calm during the last phase of the war,” I explained. Mash nodded in agreement, impressed.

“Jacob Senpai is correct, Master,” she said to Ritsuka. However, my fellow Master was pointing upwards, a troubled expression on his face.

“Look at the sky,” He said, and Mash and I did so. Over our heads, despite the daylight, the sun was no where to be seen. Obscuring it was a large, purplish mass.

“What is…huh?” Mash asked, shocked. It was at that moment that our communication device linking us to Chaldea beeped, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a hazy holographic image of Doctor Roman appear.

 _“Yes, we’re connected!”_ He exclaimed happily. _“Not the best quality, sadly, but I’ve got a video feed this time as well! Wait,”_ he asked, noticing the lack of responses from us. _“What’s wrong? You’re all staring up at the sky for some reason.”_ Mash finally looked away from the disturbing sight over our heads to look at Roman.

“Doctor, I’ll send you visuals. What is that?” She asked. I listened as Roman spluttered in shock

 _“It looks like some form of magecraft that was cast over the satellite orbit,”_ Roman finally said. “ _In any case, it’s gigantic. It looks like it is almost as big as North America,_ ” He muttered as he appeared to be looking at something off-screen. _“Hmmm, no records show such a phenomena occurring in 1431. It’s surely one of the reasons for the disappearance of our future.”_ No shit, Sherlock. “ _We’ll have to analyze it on our end. In the meantime, you guys should concentrate on surveying the area. Start with looking for any Leylines._ ”

Well, it’s a good start. I turned to the others and open my mouth when we hear a shout.

“Hey, Master, we got company!” Mordred called out, ending our conference. We hurried over to my Servant and the others. Sasaki and Medea had their arms crossed, but in a stance that indicated the ability to spring into action in a heartbeat. Closer to Mordred, Chulainn leaned against his red spear, a rather focused expression on his face. “Over there,” Mordred said, pointing a finger. I followed the direction to see a small band of men-at-arms bearing the golden _fleur-de-lis_ on a royal blue background. French soldiers then. They were rather close, and walking towards us, though it doesn’t look like they noticed us just yet.

“Orders?” Mordred asked, a serious expression on her face. Mash bit her lower lip nervously.

“What do we do? Should we attempt to make contact?”

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” Ritsuka said, and I nod in agreement. Hopefully, they could tell us what was going on, and from there we could try to start figuring out what else was different from the historical events of the era.

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for Mash to suddenly begin moving forward, Ritsuka close behind. Mordred and the other Servants stared wide-eyed, startled by the sight of two teenagers just walking straight over to a bunch of armed men, who have now noticed the two.

“Wait, Mash!” I started to say as the Demi-Servant walked over to the nervous group of soldiers. Before I can stop her, however, she began speaking, in English.

“Hello, excuse me,” the Shielder said with a polite smile as the group of soldiers stopped, surprised by the appearance of a stranger just casually walking up. I groaned in frustration, slapping a hand to my face as the pink-haired girl continued speaking. “We are travelers…”she began to say before noticing the fact that the Frenchmen were staring at her. Fou, having followed behind her, crawled up her back to look at the apparent leader of the group of soldiers. If he said something, I wasn’t able to hear it as I stood up, right before I heard frantic shouting.

“ _Ennemi attaquant! Ennemi attaquant_!” The leader shouted to his comrades, who all drew swords or readied shields. Mash and Ritsuka started bickering slightly to one another as the former positioned herself protectively in front of the latter, shield at the ready.

“Well, so much for diplomacy,” I said dryly before turning towards the others. “Fight to disarm to knock out,” I instructed them. A feral grin spread across Mordred’s face just before her horned helmet covered her head. The Knight of Rebellion lunged forward as the other Servants readied their own weapons.

As I make my way over to Ritsuka, however, I see that one soldier had managed to avoid the Servants defending us, and charges at Ritsuka from the side, his spear lowered to deliver a killing thrust.

“Ritsuka, look out!” I snarled, pushing my startled friend out of the side as the oncoming French soldier attacks.

My eyes narrowed in focus, I sidestepped the spear thrust before taking a large step forward. This places me within the soldier’s guard. I raise my hands, curled into fists, and slam either of them against the Frenchman’s ears. He cried out in pain, dropping his spear to grab his ringing ears. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, I reinforced my knee slightly before slamming it into his groin, causing the man to drop to his knees. “Sorry about this,” I said sincerely before I slammed my knee into his jaw, sending the man sprawling backwards, groaning in pain.

I carefully bent down and unbuckled the sheathed sword at the man’s belt. Quickly stepping back to stand near Ritsuka as our Servants finished fighting the one-sided brawl, I pulled out the sword of its sheath and gripped the handle lightly. I hummed softly as I felt the weight of the sword. It was somewhat heavier than what I had used in fencing, but not impossibly so.

“This will work,” I committed idly towards my friend, who grunted in response. His bright blue eyes were focused anxiously on the Servants. Or, more particularly, on Mash, it seemed. The Demi-Servant was holding her ground against her opponent, however, whose large, two-handed sword slammed harmlessly against the cross-like weapon.

Before he could recover or try to strike again, the shaft of Gàe Bolg slammed into the back of his head, causing the soldier to drop his weapon and stumble backwards, probably concussed if I had to guess. The other soldiers fight valiantly, but are just outclassed.

Mordred grabs the blade of her opponent mid-swing, and simply delivers a firm kick to the man’s stomach, sending him flying backwards. Reading the writing on the wall, so to speak, the apparent leader of the group shouts to his men.

“ _Se retirer!_ ”

The shout was echoed several more times as the outmatched soldiers gave ground. Some threw their weapons down, panicked expressions on their faces, while others helped up their injured comrades to their feet. I watched to make sure they weren’t about to try another attack before turning to Mordred and the other Servants.

“Good job, guys,” I said sincerely, smiling. Mordred scoffs as her helmet retracts once more, though she makes no effort to hide the pride of my compliment.

“Didn’t even work up a sweat,” Mordred boasted proudly. Chulainn shot her a dry look while Medea and Sasaki hung towards the rear, returning to their typical states of silence. I then made my way over to Ritsuka.

“Never imagined I would be in a fight where I would be praying that no one got hurt. Feels nice though,” I idly remarked. Ritsuka grunt in agreement.

Mash sighed softly as she leaned against her shield. Ritsuka and I turned to her in concern, especially when we hear her muttering. “Physical fatigue aside, the mental fatigue is overwhelming,” Mash said, possibly intending it to be heard by no one.

“Good job using the back of your blade,” Ritsuka said, a bit awkwardly, though a soft smile emerged from the Demi-Servant’s face. She adjusted her posture before responding.

“I didn’t even know that was possible with a shield. I learned something today.” I blinked several times, my brain trying to process what I just heard. Either I missed a joke of some sort between the two and Roman during the ill-fated attempt at greeting the fleeing soldiers, or they are being dead-serious. If it is the latter, I am going to need a stiff drink when we returned to Chaldea. I shake my head in mild irritation as Mash continued speaking. “It’s seems that they’ve retreated,” she observed before our commlink beeped.

 _“They’re going back to their fort. You should follow them and try to see if you can ask what’s going on. By any chance, does anyone speak French?”_ Doctor Roman asked. You know, this would have been a good question to ask when you told us that we were being to deployed into France. Welp, no point bringing that up. Before any of the Servants could speak up, I replied first.

“ _Oui. Je parle un peu fran_ _çais_ ,” I responded. I then turned to a surprised Ritsuka and Mash. I shrugged with a soft smirk, amused by their expressions. “In high school we had the chance to choose whether to study French, Spanish, or Latin. I decided to learn French,” I explained briefly. Mordred cleared her throat, causing me to look over my shoulder to see her staring at us impatiently, tapping Clarent softly against her shoulder armor.

“Not to interrupt your little chit-chat, but if we’re going to follow Doc’s advice, we should get a move on, Master.” I nodded in response.

“Ok, let’s go follow them. Next time, however, I’m going to start the greeting, ok?” I asked in a somewhat stern tone. Mash and Ritsuka both blushed, the latter rubbing the back of his head awkwardly while looking at his feet. Behind me I can hear Mordred snickering.

* * *

We spent the next twenty or so minutes walking at a rather brisk pace before seeing the sight of walls up ahead. A castle, it seems. However, that is not what was the reason for suddenly halting. “What the hell happened here?” I asked in a stun tone, observing the area around our destination.

The green fields before us were marred with blackened spots where fire had scorched the earth. Well, seems like we found our first clue. I shook my head sadly and began walking forward once more. “Come on. Let’s see what else is going on here,” I said.

It took us another ten minutes to reach the walls of the castle. It doesn’t get any better. Mash gasped softly in horror as we saw what had seemed to be a rather intact castle was barely standing. “This is….this is awful,” the Demi-Servant said softly. Doctor Roman chimed in at that moment.

 _“It’s a complete ruin on the inside,”_ he reported. _“The outer wall is more or less intact, but you can’t call this a castle,”_ he added. The walls were battered, with some more scorch marks spread out randomly. Discarded weapons protruded from the ground, along with pieces of armor and pieces of bone. Our Servants were watching warily for any threats. I highly doubt though that what remains of the garrison would count as such. Aside from the dozen or so soldiers that we had engaged earlier, a possibly another half dozen near the shattered gatehouse, the men-at-arms and knights we could see were all wounded to varying degrees.

“Nothing but wounded soldiers here,” Ritsuka said, sounding a bit shaken.

“Indeed. Even though they’re not in an active war. Or rather, they shouldn’t be. In 1431, Charles VII of France entered a peace treaty with the Duke of Burgundy, who was previously allied with England,” Mash said to her Master in response. “Naturally, there were probably a few small skirmishes between local groups-“ I cut her off.

“But there shouldn’t be anything like this,” I stated before walking over, having spotted the now-battered French leader of the patrol. The men-at-arm’s eyes widened as he cried out in alarm.

“ _Attention_! _Ici ils reviennent!_ ” The man shouted, summoning a sense of panic amongst the survivors. I raised my hands, trying to show that I’m not here to attack. Behind me I hear Mordred curse as I addressed the Frenchman.

“ _Attendre_! _S’il vous pla_ _ît, attendez_ ,” I spoke hurriedly, causing the soldiers to hesitate, weapons still at the ready. At least they seem to be now waiting to hear what I have to say. This might be my only chance to prevent any actual bloodshed between them and our Servants. “ _Nous sommes des voyageurs. Nous venons en paix. S’il vous pla_ _ît, abaissez vos armes_ ,” I requested before looking over my shoulder at Mordred and the others. “Put away your weapons, quickly,” I said before looking back. I let out a quiet sigh of relief to see the man before me lowering his sword somewhat, a befuddled expression on his face.

“ _Vous ne travaillez pas avec l’ennemi_?” He asked warily, eyeing what he must have seen as a baizre and exotic mix of foreigners. I shook my head emphatically before replying.

“ _Non. Je pensais que les Anglais n’attaquaient pas,_ ” I said cautiously, eager to hear more about this enemy he spoke of. “ _Le roi n’a-t-il pas sign_ _é le trait_ _é de paix?_ ”

“ _Le roi? Vous n’avez pas entendu ce qui s’est pass_ _é?_ ” The man asked, relaxing now, an action the rest of the soldiers who were able to stand and fight followed. “ _Le roi est mort. Il a_ _ét_ _é br_ _ûl_ _é par la flamme d’une sorci_ _ѐre.”_ I grimaced after I finished mentally translating what I had just heard. I look back at the rest of the group.

“If I am hearing this correctly, the man says that the king is dead, and that he was burnt to death by a witch’s flame,” I reported before addressing the solider once more. “ _Qui a fait cela?”_

“ _Jeanne d’Arc._ ” What? “ _Elle est apparue comme la ‘Sorci_ _ѐre Dragon’._ ” Well, at least we learned something important. I nodded numbly before indicating that I needed a minute to relay this information. I gestured to Mash, Ritsuka, and Mordred to come closer, and the trio do so.

“Did he tell you who was responsible?” Asked my fellow Master.

“Yes. He claims that it was the French saint, Jeanne d’Arc. He called her the ‘Dragon Witch’. But shouldn’t she be dead?” I asked, the last part directed at Mash. The Shielder nodded, a confused look on her face. Mordred crossed her arms, her brow furrowed a bit, but says nothing.

“Yes. She should have been burnt at the stake only a week or two, in fact,” replied Mash.

“So it seems we found who is responsible for the changed timeline, it seems,” Ritsuka added. “But, who exactly is this Jeanne d’Arc?” I gave him an incredulous look, and open my mouth to explain when a cry of alarm rang out.

“ _Ennemi d_ _étect_ _é!_ ” One of the few French knights shouted from the wall, pointing ahead. I turned to Mash, who activated her commlink.

“Doctor Roman, any readings on if it is a Servant?” I asked hurriedly.

 _“I’m picking up magical energy signals headed your way! It looks like its just familiars created using human bodies.”_ Please don’t be skeletons, please don’t be skeletons, please don’t be skeletons. _“Skeleton soldiers.”_ Damn it.

“Well, at least we won’t be held back when fighting this time. Mordred, go nuts,” I said to a now-smirking Mordred.

“Agreed. Orders, Master! Let’s pulverize them!” Mash shouted. I turn and raise an eyebrow at her choice of words, and Ritsuka shrugged helplessly in response. Well, at least she doesn’t have some sort of bloodlust expression on her face like Mordred or Chulainn. I turned to the French soldier once more.

“ _Emmenez vos hommes_ _à l’int_ _érieur! Nous nous occuperons de_ _ça,_ ” I said, earning a grateful thanks from him as he turned around and instructed his men to help those who were wounded and couldn’t move on their own to get inside. My arms crossed against my chest, I stand next to Ritsuka as our Servants make quick work of the several dozen skeleton soldiers.

It seems that their biggest strength is in their numbers, overwhelming opponents with attacks from every angle. An intimidating effect against mere soldiers, no doubt. Against several Heroic Spirits, though? Not much of a problem. Indeed, the only one who seemed to be enjoying the situation was Mordred.

After the Knight of Rebellion smashed the final skeletal warrior with Clarent, the commander of the French garrison came back out, an awed expression on his face as he spoke up.

“ _Je vous remercie,”_ he said in a grateful tone.

“ _Nous sommes venus vous aider,”_ I responded. “ _Maintenant,_ _êtes-vous sûr que c’était Jeanne d’Arc?”_ The man nodded solemnly.

“ _Oui_. _J’ai combattu sous sa banniѐre pendant le siѐge d’Orléans. Ses cheveux et sa couleur de peau sont différents, mais c’est elle.”_ He paused, a mournful expression on his face before he resumed speaking. “ _Quand nous avons appris qu’elle avait été capturée par les Anglais puis brûlée sur le bûcher, nous avons tremble de colѐre! Mais elle a fait un pacte avec le diable et est revenue.”_ So Jeanne was indeed burnt at the stake like it should have happened, but she didn’t stay dead it seemed.

Before I could either relay what I had just learned to the others or ask what he meant by the last part, a grating roar fills the air. The Frenchman’s eyes widen in recognition and horror before he started shouting. He shouts a word that I don’t need to translate to the others. “ _Dragons!”_

I whirl around, my hand gripping the hilt of the sword. Sure enough, about a half-dozen large, green, winged creatures were bearing down on us.

“Dragons?!?”

“Wyverns!” Ritsuka and I shouted at the same time. Mash and the other Servants readied their weapons to attack the moment the wyverns dove to breath fire on us when a new voice was heard.

“Soldiers, stand strong!” Turning towards the direction that it came from, I see a blonde teen in armor running towards us. In one hand she clutched a slender flagstaff, the banner it bore being furled around the shaft. Trailing behind her was perhaps the _longest_ ponytail I had ever seen, thickly braided.

The soldier next to me gasped, dropping his sword, staring at the newcomer like he had just seen a ghost. The blonde girl skids to a halt next to us, eyes focused on the incoming wyverns. “Who is that?” Ritsuka asked. Mordred lets out a dry chuckle, looking at the blonde newcomer.

“Well, long time, no see, Ruler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mordred and Jeanne, together again! So, I have mentioned this several times before, but now I want to get thoughts about creating a series that focuses on the Servants and masters of Chaldea, and events in-between the singularities that are nto relevant to Mash, Ritsuka, Jacob, or Mordred. If I did that, would you be interested? Let me know down before.
> 
> The reason behind the time skip was because I am worried about being side-tracked from the story because there are so many Servants that will appear eventually and I don't want to focus on secondary Servant characters unevenly if you catch my drift. The focus of the story is mainly on the adventures and all of Jacob, Mordred, Mash, and Ritsuka, along with a few Servants and other characters who will be announced later.
> 
> Now, as too the French segment, this is the only time I will be doing it, both for the sake of being easier to read and because it was a pain in the ass for me. 
> 
> Finally, it is the time for the question of the chapter. In light of Ruler (aka Jeanne) showing up, its going to be a question about her: Who do you find more interesting, Jeanne or Jalter? Furthermore, what are your thoughts about Jalter just in general?
> 
> Until next time!


	9. Jeanne d'Arc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company meet Jeanne d'Arc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I said at the end of last chapter, there will be no French, or at least, not sentences composed only of French. Also, I started my senior year of college today, so if any of the fights felt rush, I apologize for that.

“Well, long time no see, Ruler.”

I turned to Mordred, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve met before?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you later. Gotta focus on those flying lizards. You ready to fight?” Mordred asked a startled ‘Ruler’. The newcomer, clearly a Servant if both the title and the fact that the Knight of Rebellion recognized her, nodded back, a bit hesitant before looking back at the wyverns.

“Agreed.”

Next to me, Ritsuka turned to Medea. “Medea, you and Mash will be the last line of defense. Chulainn, support Mordred and ‘Ruler’.”

“Very well,” the solitary Caster said.

“You got it!”

“Sasaki, you will support the front group,” I said softly, and the swordsman nodded before stepping forward nonchalantly.

“What I wouldn’t give for some range attack,” Ritsuka muttered. I nodded, smiling as an idea pops into my head. I turn to the Demi-Servant standing protectively in front of us.

“Mash, hold still,” I said, stepping forward and reaching into the sack she was still carrying. After a few quick seconds, I grasped something metallic, and pulled out one of the water canteens. “Well, my friend, while we don’t have any Archers yet, I have an idea. You said that your family specialized in mystic codes, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Can you do it to inanimate objects?”

“Theoretically, yes. Why?” My grin spreading, I unscrewed the cap off of the canteen, and activated my Magic Circuits. I had approached Medea shortly after she had been summoned and ask if she would help me with being able to refine my grasp over my ice summoning magecraft. It took some convincing, but finally the Greek Caster had agreed to tutor me. While I still wasn’t able to form a large wall of ice without exhausting myself, as what had happened in Singularity F, I was now able to summon ice to a certain degree with little to no cost in terms of prana.

I focused on the upper layer of the water and closed my eyes. “ _Eis, bilden! Eiszapfen machen!_ ” I intoned. I imagined droplets of water flying out of the canteen and into the air around me. As I imagined them beginning to solidify, I forced them to stretch themselves out into icicles. Opening my eyes, I see that I had managed to summon about a dozen or so floating over my head. I turn to Ritsuka.

“If I call out for it, I would like you to reinforce the tips of these icicles. While I doubt that it would kill a wyvern, but it should sure as hell do some damage to it.

The first wyvern swooped down, mouth open and ready to breath fire when Sasaki swung his long-bladed sword, severing the head in a single blow. The body of the headless wyvern twitched as it fell for a few seconds before it started to dissolve.

Chulainn crouched down next to the Assassin, a feral grin matching the glint in his red eyes as he clutches his spear. Then he turned into a red and blue blur as he launched himself into the air at one of the wyverns. The next second, his spear was thrust deep into the heart of the startled reptile, slaying it. I shook my head slightly in amusement when I hear Mordred shout “show off,” to the Lancer as she decapitated her own opponent with a single, brutal swipe of Clarent.

A third wyvern tried to dive down on the Knight of Rebellion from behind, but she had apparently noticed it, spinning around swiftly as she threw an armored fist into the wyvern’s mouth. It snapped to the side, a spray of blood landing on the ground along with a fang or two. With a low grunt, Mordred impaled the winged creature with Clarent, pulling the blade up and disemboweling the wyvern.

However, another wyvern began to dive at her, and this time she seemed distracted. I shouted towards Ritsuka. “Now!” I said, readying myself to sling the ice spikes forward. Each of the icilces started to glow a faint red, and I then pointed at the wyvern.

The ice spikes knocked it off course, causing it to roar. The sound was cut short, however, by a familiar sword being thrown into the throat, slaying it almost instantly. I lowered my hackles as Mordred retrieved her sword as ‘Ruler’, Sasaki, and Chulainn dealt with the last two wyverns rather quickly

As the last body of the wyvern began to dissolve, Mash slowly began to ease her stance, her purple eyes scanning the sky for a few minutes before she finally spoke. “I believe that was the last one,” she reported. Mordred walked over and gave a (somewhat) soft back pat that almost sent me stumbling forward.

“Thanks for the assist with that last one, Master. I totally would have gotten him though,” she added with her trademark smirk. I shook my head in amusement and activated the commlink.

“Doctor Roman?”

 _“Appears so. All right, fine job everyone! I was watching with sweety palms, and sweets in my hands!_ ”

….wait, what?

“Doctor,” Mash said slowly, scowling slightly. “Are those the sweets that I got recently?”

 _“Huh? Is that right? I found them in the command room next to the tea, and none of the staff present said that it was theirs, so I thought…”_ Doctor Roman’s voice trailed off, laughing nervously as Mash growled rather cutely.

“I had gotten them as a token of gratitude for when we return from this Order. They weren’t for you, but for Jacob Senpai and Ritsuka Senpai, for fighting bravely,” the Demi-Servant responded in a testy tone.

“Mash…you’ve become such a thoughtful person…” the doctor’s voice was muffled slightly, and we could hear the sounds of hurried chewing. _“I must say, these are some really tasty sweets. I’m sure Ritsuka and Jacob will be thrilled, too!”_ That would imply that there would be any left in the first place, an outcome I suspect to be doubtful.

Mash apparently felt the same, for she turned to Ritsuka. “…Master, when we return to Chaldea, please reserve enough combat resources for one last attack. I’ve registered one more enemy that I’d like to hit with the “back of my blade’,” she said to a startled Ritsuka in one of the most serious tones I have heard yet. Mordred snorted in amusement.

The levity of the moment doesn’t last for long, sadly, as I hear the man I had been talking to shout in alarm to his comrades. I look over my shoulder to see the battered and charred gate being closed. Well, so much for camaraderie.

“What was he saying, Jacob?” Ritsuka asked nervously, hands curled slightly. I looked back at my friend.

“He said to run, and that the ‘Dragon Witch’ was here,” I turned towards ‘Ruler’. The blonde Servant was staring down at her feet with a forlorn expression on her face, also understanding what the soldier had said. The others looked at her as she started to speak in a quiet tone.

“Thank you very much for helping,” she finally said.

“It’s what we came here for,” Mash replied. “Earlier, Mordred called you ‘Ruler’. I assume that means you are a Ruler-class Servant. Then what is you-” Before the pink-haired girl could continue, I spoke up, my arms crossed.

“Jeanne d’Arc, the Maid of Orléans, and one of the nine secondary patron saints of France. That is who you, if you forgive my impertinence,” I said, lowering my head in apology at the last part. She may have fought off the wyverns alongside us, but from what I heard, there are two possibilities that came to my mind. Either somehow there were two people going by Jeanne here, or this was an elaborate trap. At the mention of her status in later history as a saint, Jeanne blushed.

“Jeanne…d’Arc?” Mash asked quietly.

“I thought you guys said she was supposed to have just died,” Ritsuka added, confused. I briefly looked away from the Servant to look at my fellow Master with a raised eyebrow.

“Rtisuka…” I said with a sigh, causing Ritsuka to chuckle nervously.

“Yes?”

“Learn some tact next time,” I gently reprimanded him, causing his cheeks to darken slightly in embarrassment as he lowered his gaze while rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Looking back at Jeanne, I shoot her an apologetic look 

“Well, I fear we may be overstaying our welcome here,” Sasaki suddenly spoke up, gesturing at the wall behind us. A few French archers could be seen readying bows and crossbows, eyes focused on Jeanne with fear and anger. She looked away, unable to see the expressions on the faces of her former comrades.

“Do you know a place that we could go to talk?” I asked, a bit gently.

Jeanne nodded. “Yes. Follow me.”

* * *

After walking for some time, we paused at the outskirts of a decent-sized grove of trees. Suddenly, Jeanne stiffened, and I noticed her fists clenching the staff in her hands. Medea’s staff appeared in the Caster’s hands, and I draw my sword. “Large or small group?” I asked the Ruler. She looked over her shoulder towards me as the other Servants readied themselves.

“It seems that some more of those vile things are here. They’re too close to the fort,” she replied quietly. Sure enough, another dozen or so of those damn skeletal warriors clattered towards us. Mordred rolled her eyes, not even bothering to assemble her helmet as she threw herself forward and past Jeanne, arms outstretched. In one strike she body slams on skeleton and clothesline another skeleton to either of her before summoning Clarent

I sensed rather than felt the threat behind me, even as Ritsuka cried out my name in alarm. Spinning around, my sword sliced through the neck of the skeleton that was about to stab me from behind. “You know,” I said to the crumbling enemy, gritting my teeth, “I am getting sick and tired of this cliché. I mean, what’s next, zombies?”

Another skeleton with a spear charged forward. Seeing Mash charging forward, I simply lop the tip of off the spear before Mash’s shield collides with the center mass of the skeleton. Looking around, I see that the main group of skeletons have also been dispatched.

“Enemy group destroyed,” Mash reported. I sheathed my sword before wiping the back of my hand against my forehead, clearing it of sweat. The sun was starting to set as Jeanne turned towards us.

“Seeing as it is starting to get late, I suggest that we should settle here,” the Ruler asked. I shoot a questioning look at Ritsuka, wanting to get his opinion. He nodded back in response.

“I see no reason to disagree with the idea. I guess we can start introductions now, huh?” I asked, waiting for Jeanne to respond. When she nodded her head, the metal tassels of her head piece clinking softly, I continued speaking. “I am Jacob Aronson.”

“My individual name is Mash Kyrielight,” the Demi-Servant spoke next, gesturing towards Ritsuka. “This is Ritsuka Fujimaru, my Master.” My fellow Master waved his hand, apparently still a little embarrassed over the whole mentioning of the Ruler’s death and whatnot. A thoughtful expression appeared on Jeanne’s face.

“Two Masters? So, there are Masters even in this Holy Grail War,” she said. Mash shook her head though.

“No, it has nothing to do with the Holy Grail War. I am just a Demi-Servant,” she explained, and Jeanne’s expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Demi-Servant?”

“Not a true Heroic Spirit.” Upon hearing this, the Maid of Orléans looked a bit skeptically at Mash. I turned to Mordred. Her words from earlier and the promise to explain had been weighing in the back of my mind. Now it seemed like the best time for her explanation.

“So, Mordred. You said that you know her?” I asked. My Servant nodded once.

“Yeah. The last time I was summoned, it was in a Great Holy Grail War, between two different factions. In other words, fourteen Servants were summoned. Ruler over here was summoned to serve as an unbiased arbiter of the war, to ensure that both sides were following the rules,” Mordred explained. However. Jeanne looked at her in confusion.

“I apologize, but I have no idea about what you are talking about. I have no memories of ever meeting you. If it wasn’t for your Master over there, I wouldn’t even have known your name.”

“Doesn’t a Ruler have the True Name Discernment skill?” I asked, rubbing my chin in thought. Jeanne nodded her head in confirmation.

“As far as I understand, I have indeed been summoned as a Servant of the Ruler class. However, a majority of information about the Holy Grail War that should be provided is missing. That’s not the only thing, either. My stats have been lowered as well. Not only have I lost the anti-Servant command Spells that I should have had, I am also unable to reveal the True Name of any Servant I encounter unless it is given to me freely.” Her cheeks flushed as she looked away from me. “Luckily, this is my homeland where I was born and raised. If nothing else, I can still speak the language.”

“So, do you have any idea why people are saying that you have turned into a ‘Dragon Witch’?” I asked. Jeanne hesitated once again before answering.

“Having just materialized only a few hours ago, I am not sure about what’s going on. With that in mind, it seems that there is another Jeanne d’Arc in this era. A Jeanne who has murdered King Charles, and decimated Orléans,” the Servant said, clearly bothered by the idea.

“So, does that mean _two_ of the same Servants have been summoned in have been summoned in the same era?” Mash asked.

“Doctor, are there any records about this happening or being possible?” I asked. After a minute, Doctor Roman replied.

“ _I’ve found nothing so far that addresses the idea. However, we don’t have access to most of the Holy Grail War’s records. That means there could be examples of such simultaneous summons having occurred. On a different note, we now know what the issue is with this era. With Charles VII dead, and Orl_ _éans apparently under occupation, this symbolizes the collapse of the French nation. In a few centuries from now, France was the first nation to declare human liberty and quality, an action that many other countries followed suit. A delay of at least a hundred years would stagnate civilization, possibly leaving the world stuck in the Middle Ages!”_ Doctor Roman said rapidly. Jeanne leapt backward, a startled expression on her face.

“I just heard a voice,” she said in alarm, amethyst eyes wide. “Is this some form of magecraft?!? What in the world are you all-“ Before she could continue, the acting director spoke up.

“ _Oh, that’s right, I haven’t introduced myself yet. Nice to meet you, Saint Jeanne d’Arc. My name is Romani Archaman. Everyone calls me Roman though. I do various support tasks for Chaldea._

“Chaldea?” I feel pity for the girl. Servant or not, she is being given a large amount of information that is adding to her earlier confusion over the loss or reduction of her various skills.

“Excuse me, Mademoiselle Jeanne,” Mash, stop trying to use French, I beg you, “but it’s our turn now.”

“We’re not from this era, but what you would consider the future, which is our present. In other words, we are time travelers. Our mission is to correct singularities in history such as this one,” I explained before handing it over to Mash.

“Jacob Senpai is correct. We belong to an organization called Chaldea,” Mash began to explain before spending the next forty-five minutes telling Jeanne about what had happened to us in the past week. By the time she’s done, the sun had finished its descent while a crescent moon began to rise. However, Jeanne’s confusion had been dealt with.

“…I see, I understand now,” the Ruler-class Servant said. “To think that the world itself has been incinerated.” The embarrassed expression she had earlier returns as she lowered her gaze awkwardly to her feet. “It seems my worries were so trivial.”

“Jeanne?” I asked. The Servant looked up at me, a grim expression now present.

“I’m an incomplete Servant, and now even I cannot trust ‘myself’! The Jeanne d’Arc that occupies Orléans…and not only that, but those flying dragons…”

“Seeing that neither dragons nor wyverns are supposed to be here, and that you are being called the ‘Dragon Witch’, do you think that this other you is the one responsible for their presence?” I asked. Jeanne nodded glumly.

“As much as I am loath to admit it, but the person controlling these creatures must be ‘myself’. I don’t know how though, especially since I never thought of such things when I was alive. Summoning a dragon is one of the highest forms of magcraft. To summon so many though…” she trailed off before Roman took over.

“ _It’s an impossible feat for modern mages,”_ he said. Ritsuka’s eyes widened while my own narrowed.

“Unless one has a Holy Grail,” I interjected. After all, this singularity was supposed to be caused by a Holy Grail, which has been described as an omnipotent device for granting wishes, such as gaining the ability to summon and command dragons and wyverns.

_“Bingo! While the situation isn’t exactly ideal, at least you guys now have an idea of where to look.”_

“In other words, we have to cross skeleton and wyvern-infested territory and defeat the forces at Orléans, hopefully finding the Grail and reclaiming it,” I summed up, a cross-expression on my face. “Hey Mash, you wouldn’t happen to have somehow brought a cannon or rocket launcher with you, would you?” I asked jokingly. The pink-haired girl shook her head, apparently thinking I was being serious before she turned to Jeanne.

“What about you, Mademoiselle Jeanne? What are you going to do now?” The Servant’s eyes hardened, her facial features resolute.

“The objective is clear. I will head to Orléans, and once again take back the city. In order to do so, I must exterminate the Jeanne d’Arc who stands in my way,” Jeanne said, no, declared, her tone unyielding. Mash stared at her in awe. “The Lord didn’t show me the path, but I cannot, _will not_ , turn my back on this.” The Servant was certainly brave, no doubt about it.

“Even alone, you will fight,” Mash said, awe-struck. “She’s just like history said she was, Master.” Ritsuka and I both nodded.

“Glad to see you’re not throwing in the towel, Ruler,” Mordred said, having remained silent behind me. “I never did get a chance to see you truly fight,” she added, sounding a bit eagerly to me. The sentence gives me an idea, and I stepped closer.

“We have similar goals and missions,” I said, extending a hand. “However, no one should have to fight alone. We would be honored to fight alongside you, if you will let us?” I offered. Jeanne looked at the hand in surprise, before a small smile crept across her lips.

“I cannot possibly thank you enough. Thank you, Jacob. I had thought that I would be in this fight all alone,” she said, appearing relieved. I return the smile before it slips from my face as I look past her at a shadow approaching from the edge of the grove. It was charging towards us.

“Look out!” I cried out in warning as I tackled a startled Jeanne to the ground. If I had waited a second longer, the outstretched claws would have slammed into her back instead of Clarent’s blade. I rolled to the side as the French Servant leapt back to her feet, twirling her flagstaff as a large, red wyvern hissed in anger as Mordred lops off its right foot.

Whatever reason behind the quasi-dragon to attack in an area where it would barely be able to hover was unknown. That it would be killed soon wasn’t unknown, however, as Sasaki slashed its right wing into ribbons while Jeanne stabbed the breast of the dragon near the heart, slaying it instantly. The Servants and Mash circled around Ritsuka and I protectively, gazes swinging around the horizon when it could be seen for the next few minutes before they all slowly began to ease up.

“Well, that was a thing,” Chulainn remarked breezily. Meanwhile, Sasaki shook his head before turning to me.

“Master, with your permission, I would like to take the first watch of the campsite.” Medea responded with a bark of laughter.

“My, it seems that you really did enjoy being a guard despite your idle complaints last time,” the Caster teased. The Assassin tensed his shoulders briefly, but otherwise did not respond to the taunt. As Mordred look disapprovingly at her, I nodded at my second Servant.

“Very well. Thank you for volunteering to go first, Sasaki,” I said, learning a brief nod before the Japanese swordsman walked to the edge of the grove from which the wyvern had come charging in.

“Sorry about tackling you,” I said to Jeanne, smiling a bit awkwardly and earning a snort of amusement from Mordred.

“It’s fine. I do feel ashamed though for saying that I would fight on my own earlier, however,” Jeanne said, her cheeks burning red once more. “Thanks to you, I feel stronger than ever. Even if I’m up against myself, a witch, I have nothing to be afraid of now that I have you as allies.” I frowned, however, noticing the bitterness in her tone at mentioning herself as a witch.

“You sure you’re ok?” I asked, my arms crossed.

“I am fine,” she insisted as Ritsuka and Mash shot their own questioning looks at the Maid of Orléans. “Needless to say, it does sadden me that those soldiers would mistake me for that other Jeanne. Alas, it can’t be helped,” she shrugged.

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” Mordred remarked, earning another shrug from the blonde French.

“It’s only been a few days since I was burned at the stake. If a resurrected me caused a massacre at Orléans, then I can’t blame me for being scared of me.”

“Well, hopefully that’ll change soon,” Ritsuka said, and I nodded in agreement.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Mordred asked lazily.

“I suggest that we break camp come morning, and head to the nearest village. We can ask around, see if they have see anyone unusual perhaps. Since Jeanne can’t detect other Servants like a Ruler normally could, we’ll have to do this the old-fashion way. Any complaints?”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Nah.”

“Then it’s settled then,” Ritsuka said before his stomach rumbled softly, an action repeated by Masha and myself. “Though, maybe we could do with some supper, seeing that we’re not Servants and all.” We all laughed at that, and soon started to set up a small camp, complete with a fire, but no tents. Thankfully, the sack contained three roll-up sleeping bags that were also used to protect the food, so we wouldn’t have to sleep on the ground truly.

* * *

Dinner had been quiet but nice, considering the food we had on hand was dry and tasteless. The conversation though, that had been more enjoyable. We had asked questions about Jeanne and her childhood. After all, it wasn’t like one could ask such an iconic historical figure to share stories about growing up. Even Mordred had joined in, much to my amusement.

However, there was a question that I needed to ask Doctor Roman. I got up, stretching my back. “I got to go take a leak,” I said, a half-truth. After moving away some, out of hearing range unless I shouted, I quickly relieved my bladder and then used the small packet of hand sanitizer I had grabbed to clean my hands. I moved a little closer to the camp before pausing.

Seeing that I was alone, I turned on my commlink. “Hey, you still there, Doc?”

“ _Of course. What’s up?”_

“Roman, about what Jeanne had said that she was weaker than she should be…do you have any idea why that could be?” I asked softly, standing away from the others.

“ _Based on what we know, perhaps it is because she was summoned after another ‘Jeanne d’Arc’ had been summoned. However, I can’t say for certain if that is the case,”_ Doctor Roman finally replied, having apparently been in a discussion over this with Da Vinci.

“An idea is better than having nothing, even if it is only a theoretical one,” I remarked. “Thank you, Doctor. Have a good rest of the night. We’ll contact you in the morning once we are awake and ready to move out,” I added, my eyes focused on the campfire.

“ _Good night, Jacob. Stay safe,”_ Roman replied, and I grunted in acknowledgement as I turned off my commlink, crossing my arms in thought as I rocked back and forth briefly on my heels, humming softly.

Well, so much for this being a simple mission. And yet, it doesn’t feel like an impossible one. Especially considering the progress that we had made in a single day. Saving a band of soldiers, finding out a possible identity of the enemy we will have to face, as well as the location to find both them and the Grail. And finally, meeting and forming a temporary contract with Jeanne d’Arc.

I stop rocking and instead switched to leaning against a tree while I watched Jeanne, Ritsuka, Mash, and occasionally Mordred exchange stories and occasional laughter. Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, the sight warms my heart. My group of friends.

Ritsuka, a guy who many might describe as being average, but with an open and trusting heart. And yet, even if he didn’t realize it yet, I suspected that there was strength inside him, waiting for its chance. Despite his occasional mistakes or gaffs, I am proud to know and work alongside him to solve all seven of these singularities to save our families and the future of the world.

Mash, the shy, polite, and equally kind-hearted junior of our group. A kouhai, I believe Ritsuka called her once or twice. The two seemed to work well together, even though they had known each other for only a short time. However, there seemed to be a hidden sadness whenever she smiled, adding to the suspicion that there was something else about her that she hadn’t shared. Just as I had chosen when we had our first group dinner, however, I wouldn’t press the topic.

Mordred, loud, brash, boastful, and reliable. For someone many would lambast as the icon of treachery, only when she mentioned her father did I see that part of her. I had told her shortly after summoning her that titles shouldn’t define a person, and that I trusted her. In the time, short though it may be for now, that we spent together, that act of blind trust seems to have been validated. Mordred would forever be my first Servant, as Mash is Ritsuka’s.

Maybe it was me being idealistic, but it seemed that the bond between Mordred and I was slowly starting to grow. Not in a measurable way, not let, but she was slowly easing up her reactions whenever I accidently referred to her true gender. She still glared at me, but there hadn’t been threats of harm like the first time. Honestly, I found myself enjoying her company, even when she acted like a child every now and then.

Together, the three of them helped reinforce my determination to fight back.

“Oi, Master! Stop acting all dark and broody and get your ass over here!” I shook my head with a smile, pushing myself forward.

“Ok Mordred,” I said, sitting down to enjoy the next few hours before it came time to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so just to note, Jeanne is not going to become the main romance for this story for Jacob. Ritsuka and Jacob are eventually going to end up with Mash and Mordred, respectively. That said, I do have plans for Jeanne along with a few other Servants who have not been introduced yet, so we will be seeing her a fair bit most likely. That being said, did you enjoy the little fluff section at the end, where Jacob reflected on Mash, Ritz, and Mordred?
> 
> Also another note: I am not going to sideline Ritsuka in the story. Next singularity I plan on letting him take the lead role. More on that late ron in the story.
> 
> As for college. I might be slowed down to posting a chapter every two weeks instead of the more recent a chapter a week. This is going to be a major source of coping for me while I live on campus for the next few months while hoping to not get Covid-19. Wish me a safe semester.
> 
> Now, for the fun stuff! Two questions: The first is for those who have played Fate/Grand Order: Which is your favorite singularity and why?  
> For general audiences: Aside from the orginal form, which one of the various Artoria getups do you enjoy the most? (Including Alters and the Herione X stuff)
> 
> Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed the chapter, looking forward to any and all feedback, and I'll see you all next chapter!


	10. La Charité

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob has another brief glimpse of young Mordred, the party decides on their next step, and arrive at La Charité

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this was sooner than I was expecting from myself, so hopefully it's a good one! Especially looking forward to writing the next chapter too, lol. Enjoy!

_Cold. Everything was cold. It was snowing. Outside of a small castle-like structure, two figures were walking away from the warmth of the building. Straining my eyes in the dark, I quickly realize that it was Mordred, clothed in the same outfit that I had seen before, though without a hood, revealing her wild mess of blonde hair hanging down her back. She kept her arms crossed, hunched forward as she shivered. “Mother, what are we doing out here?” She asked the other figure, who I had by now recognized as Morgan le Fay. The elder half-sister of King Arthur appeared unbothered by the cold, nor did she look back at her daughter._

_“I told you when we returned that your training would intensify. Tonight, you will learn how to deal with the cold. Guileless child, either you will survive and grow stronger, or die a failure.” The way she spoke about that indicated that if Mordred died, it would be little more than an inconvenience to Morgan’s schemes._

_Young Mordred stared at her mother with wide eyes, either in shock, or disbelief, emotions I myself was experiencing._

_“Mother?”_

_Instead of responding, Mordred’s mother turned around while waving her hand. Shaking her head, the future Knight of Treachery and Rebellion tried to follow, perhaps thinking she was just jesting about her child being left in the cold without winter clothing._

_The invisible field that Morgan must have just casted with that flick of her wrist shattered that hope._

_Mother…” Mordred groaned as she pushed herself up off of the snow, her small body shaking. Morgan continued walking, showing not a single gesture of remorse for her actions._

_“Remember, my child, that the enemy you must kill will be without mercy. Therefore, you must harden yourself both outside, and within. One way or the other, I shall see you in the morning.”_

_Mordred threw herself forward a few more times, crying out as Morgan returned to the warmth of their shelter. I swore that I could see the glint of tears starting to form in her eyes as the snow continued to fall without pity or kindness…_

* * *

I bolted upright, shivering slightly despite the rather warm temperature. I could still feel the cold. I force myself to breath as I looked upwards. Instead of grey and lifeless clouds leaking snow, the night sky gleamed and glinted overhead as hundreds of stars danced before my eyes.

“Everything alright, Master?” I turned my body slightly to see Mordred looking at me while leaning against a tree, out of her armor. It appears that it was Mordred’s turn to watch over the camp. Despite the posture she has that would seem to scream idleness and boredom, her green eyes shone with attentiveness, some of which was now boring into me.

“Ah, just some bad dreams,” I said, deciding to tell only part of the truth. As much progress that I have been making with bonding with Mordred, I still had a feeling that it wasn’t a good time to start pushing her about the things I had seen so far of her past. “Probably stress-induced, ya know? How has the night been?”

Mordred merely grunted in response, and a moment of silence feel between us. I gazed at her, my mind awhirl with thoughts, mainly regarding the dream I just awoke from. Apparently, Morgan le Fay had considered her own flesh and blood as disposable.

“Something behind me?” Mordred asked with an arched eyebrow, causing me to cough and look away. Thankfully she didn’t add further comment.

“Well, I should try to get some more sleep. Good night, Mordred.”

“Night Master.”

* * *

Mordred looked at the now-sleeping form of her Master, her lips curled in a small frown. She didn’t doubt that Jacob had experienced some unpleasant dreams, but she noticed how her Master had looked at her. It wasn’t pity, but rather, sympathy.

She wondered what he had seen. Back in Trifas, she had noticed how her last Master had woken up with a troubled expression on his face. He had never asked about her past beyond what she had told him in that graveyard the night she was summoned, but it was clearly troubling to him.

Kairi Shishigou. A bittersweet smirk replaced the frown as the Knight of Rebellion thought about the scared necromancer that had been her Master. The outfit she had chosen and left back at Chaldea had been in part to remember the clothes Kairi had bought for her at the start of the Greater Holy Grail War. The other reason, though, was because they had been really comfortable for her. Why change what worked for her last time?

Her two Masters were similar in some ways. Both preferred to be involved in fighting, and neither had treated her as merely a tool. So far, Jacob had shown the same willingness to listen and take into consideration her advice and feelings that Kairi had after meeting Assassin of Red. They also treated her as an equal, though in different ways. The necromancer seemed to, at times, view Mordred almost like a daughter. Jacob seemed to prefer the idea of friendship.

Mordred shook her head, snorting in amusement. It had been a real shock to hear that her current Master was willing to blindly trust the infamous Knight of Treason, and yet he hadn’t betrayed his reasons. It seems that the two really were crazy. If Jacob truly was like her last Master in any way, the future would certainly be as interesting as the Greater Holy Grail War had been, even though she had chosen to fade after Kairi died.

This time though, she had no intention of letting her Master die, not as long as she lived.

* * *

When I awoke for the second time, the sun had already risen. My nose twitched slightly at the scent of food, and I pushed myself into an upright sitting position. Mash and Ritsuka were already up, and crouched around the fire, warming up some more of the rations we had been given.

“Good morning, Jacob Senpai,” Mash greeted me, and I returned the gesture, standing up and walking over.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Ritsuka asked, slightly concerned. I grunted in acknowledgement while I stretched my back before speaking.

“Just a bad dream. What about you guys? Enjoying camping?” Mash nodded while her Master shrugged.

“Oh, yes. I had never slept outside of Chaldea before, so it was a very exciting experience, especially to get to see the stars shining so brightly!” Mash exclaimed with near child-like wonder. I feel myself grinning instinctively at the sight before turning to Ritsuka, who shrugged again.

“It was ok. It will be good though to get a move on. Here, we made you some food,” my friend said, handing over a small, disposable try. While the food itself seemed rather bland, the fact that it had been warmed up was the cause of the smell. I began to eat as the other Servants all began to make their way over to us.

“Mademoiselle Jeanne, what’s the plan for today?” Mash asked the Ruler.

“Once Jacob finishes eating, we should break camp and start moving. First, we’ll cut through this forest, in the direction towards Orléans. As we discussed yesterday, it will be difficult to approach the city directly. Therefore, we should try to see if we can discover any information from the surrounding settlements. The nearest one is La Charité. If no one disagrees, I suggest we go there first,” Jeanne offered. I looked first at Ritsuka and Mash, then towards Mordred and the others. Seeing expression indicating either indifference or agreement, I nodded toward the Ruler.

“That sounds like a good plan. Just give me a few minutes to eat, and then we can move out.”

* * *

The next few hours were spent marching through the French countryside in relative silence. Jeanne was leading us, Ritsuka, Mash, and I following right behind her. Mordred and Chulainn were close behind, while Sasaki and Medea brought up the rear.

As it was approaching noon, and the sky above us being clear of clouds, we moved cautiously, prepared to defend against any wyverns that might try to swoop down upon our group. Finally, we paused, with Jeanne turning toward us.

“We’re almost at La Charité. If we can’t get any information here about Orléans, we’ll have to move closer. That is something I would prefer to avoid as much as possible given our current situation. I will not engage in combat with so many uncertainties about what we face and if we could get any support from the French army,” Jeanne explained.

“Logical,” I grunted.

“You’re really calm,” Ritsuka remarked in mild awe. Jeanne frowned, shaking her head slightly.

“No, to be honest, I am panicking inside. No matter how one looks at it, the other ‘me’ cannot be in her right mind. What that monster will do by controlling the people…” Jeanne paused, shaking her head again. “It’s easy to imagine. Overwhelming power and hatred can easily destroy a person, no matter how noble they are.” For a few minutes, no one commented on that statement. I gazed ahead at the horizon, chewing on the inside of my cheek lightly in thought, idly noting the dark cloud that had just appeared.

I blinked as I processed that last part. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the cloud. It’s dark, almost black. At the same time, a breeze blew past us, carrying a somewhat familiar scent. The smell of burnt wood. That’s not a rain cloud.

“Something’s wrong. We got to move,” I said briskly. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but the ‘cloud’ was hovering in the direction of the town. “Look,” I added, pointing at the plume of black smoke.

“ _Be careful guys!”_ Roman’s voice broke over the commlink. _“We just detected a Servant just ahead of your current path. It appears to be in the town you guys are headed to.”_

“Any idea if they are friendly?” I barked, my senses at high alert as an all-too-familiar gut feeling formed.

“ _No idea. Crap…it appears to be moving away from the town,”_ Roman said, falling silent for a few seconds before letting out a frustrated curse. _“We’ve lost the signal. It’s moved out of range. We’ll keep scanning for it or any other Servants, but be careful!”_ Doctor Roman advised.

“Understood,” I said curtly before I began jogging forward, Mordred and the others close on my heels.

 _‘Please, let there be someone to save,’_ I thought desperately.

* * *

It took us another fifteen minutes before we arrived at La Charité. The smell of fire had grown stronger the closer we got, the acrid burn of smoke filling my nose.

“Oh no…” Jeanne whispered in horror as she gazed at the devastation. If memory served me right, she had led the army that had retaken the town from the occupying English forces only two years ago from the current date. Now, it looked like it had been in vain.

Bodies littered the street, men, women, and children. Some were burnt, while others had been cut or mangled. The metallic scent of blood soon joined the smoke, and I saw Ritsuka recoil in horror.

“Spread out! Search for survivors!” I said, shaking off the shock and horror. I pushed forward, gripping my hilt as I moved to the nearest house. I pressed my weight against the door, seeing if I could open it, to no avail. It appeared to be either blocked, or jammed shut due to whatever had happened here. Taking a few steps back, I activated my Magic Circuits and flooded my leg with prana to reinforce it before kicking forward. I repeat the action two more times. On the third attempt, the door groaned as it fell forward. I drew my sword as I pushed inside.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I called out. The scent of death struck hard, and my heart plummeted at seeing the mangled remains of three bodies. The father, with a kitchen knife, had apparently attempted to defend his wife and infant daughter. The trio of remains had been slashed and hacked, and I looked away.

I fight to keep the contents of my stomach down as I backed away. Looking back, I see a pale Ritsuka stumbling out of another house, leaning against Mash in support. It seems to have been a slaughter. Mordred was scowling, her eyes chips of cold emerald as she surveyed the area. Medea’s slight smirk was replaced with pursed lips, while even the unexpressive Sasaki looked troubled.

It felt like the bombing of Chaldea all over again, only this time, we could help no one. “Doctor Roman,” I said sadly, activating my commlink. “Are you getting any readings of life other than us?” I asked desperately.

 _“Aside from you guys, there is nothing left alive, be it humans or animals,”_ Roman reported in a mournful tone.

“Damn it!” I snarled, while Mash muttered something that I couldn’t hear to Ritsuka in shock. “It’s no use-“ I was cut off by the sound of metal rustling. We all went still, on guard. The noise appeared to have come from somewhere ahead of us, towards the center of town. However, we couldn’t see much in that direction due to the smoke.

Something wasn’t right…

“Jacob, duck!” Ritsuka suddenly shouted out, appearing to be making a finger gun towards me. I ducked down and hurled myself to the side as my fellow Master fired a single shot of Gandr. Looking at the spot I had just been standing in, I see the body of a French soldier falling backwards. Eyes narrowed, I push myself up off the ground, drawing my sword as Mordred and the others summoned their weapons.

“Thanks for the save, Ritsuka,” I said, eyeing him from the corner of my eye for a brief moment. The Japanese youth had a queasy look on his face as he lowered a trembling hand. If memory serves me right, this is the first time he took down an enemy. The fact that it was apparently a person didn’t help, no doubt.

However, there was no time to offer words of comfort or anything else that could be helpful, as the sound of shuffling feet filled the air, getting louder and louder. I activated my commlink again.

“Roman, I thought you said that you weren’t getting any lifeform readings?!?”

“ _I didn’t! Still only getting readings from you guys only!_

I cursed under my breath as a certain dismissive comment I had made the other day came to mind just as more figures appeared from the smoke.

“No…” Jeanne gasped in a mixture of shock, horror, and anger. “It can’t be!”

“Whoever is responsible must have also turned them into the living undead! Master, I will scatter them,” Mash said to Ritsuka, moving forward as Sasaki hurried over towards us, taking up a defensive stance before the Masters of Chaldea.

“Those bastards,” Mordred snarled in disapproval before her helmet slammed back into place. She hurled herself forward, impaling a zombie on Clarent before swinging to the side, dragging her blade out of the side of the undead foe and then bisecting the next two walking corpses in a single stroke.

Medea raised her hand, and a dozen dragon-tooth skeletons arouse from the ground, silently charging into another cluster of zombies. While her familiars engaged in a brawl of the undead and unliving, she point her staff at yet another cluster of zombies, chanting briefly in ancient Greek before a column of fire erupted from the ground beneath their feet, incinerating the entire group in a single strike.

Chulainn became a blur once again, the Lancer thrusting and stabbing with Gàe Bolg effortlessly, though not engaging his Noble Phantasm against shambling corpses.

Jeanne twirled her flagstaff like a baton, using both ends of the rod as weapons. One moment she swept a zombie off of their feet, the next driving the spear tip into the head before the zombie could get back up and attempt to continue its assault.

Mash charged forward, using her shield to both block and unbalance any zombies that tried to attack her, staying close to both Jeanne and Mordred. The fighting continued for what felt like hours, but in all honesty was probably only a few minutes. Towards the end of the fighting, some wyverns joined in, but Chulainn dealt with them quickly with his cursed red spear.

Jeanne remained crouched as Chulainn impaled the last of the trio of wyverns that had joined the fight. The blonde Servant was panting slightly, sweat drenching her hair. Mordred flicked Clarent to the side, flinging away the blood sticking to the metal. Her helmet remained over her features, undoubtedly scowling at what had just happened.

“That’s the last of the wyverns,” Mash reported, adjusting her own posture. “No sign of there being any other enemies nearby. The battle is over.” There were no cheers or words of acknowledgment. “Jeanne?” Mash asked in concern, noticing how the Ruler was bothered, and not just in a physical sense from fighting.

Jeanne slowly straightened her back, forcing herself to take a more neutral stance before speaking. “It was most likely ‘me’ who was behind this,” she said bitterly. I stepped forward.

“We can’t be sure of that yet,” I began to say before the Maid of Orléans swung herself around, looking directly at me with hardened features.

“No, I can tell it was, Master. I am sure of it.” She said, the bitterness growing. “There’s one thing I don’t understand though. How much do you have to hate others to wreak such havoc?” She gestured at the burning buildings and scattered bodies before she continued speaking. “I can’t understand it.”

I was trying to think of something, anything to say to comfort my temporary Servant when my commlink began beeping rapidly and urgently. I activated it as Roman called out.

“ _Servant signatures had just appeared! They’re headed your way, and are coming in the direction the previous signature was going when we lost track of it. They must have sensed you guys were here,”_ the acting-director explained rapidly and in an urgent tone.

“How many?” Mash asked as Mordred growled. Doctor Roman made a choking sound of disbelief and shock.

Well, that wasn’t a bad sign now, was it?

“ _Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”_ Roman groaned. _“There are five! They’re moving fast, too…are they Riders or something? You’ve got to get out of there!”_ Roman urged us. Knowing that we had four Servants operating at full capacity as well as Mash and Jeanne only highlighted how bad the readings Roman was getting were.

“But,” Mash began before Roman cut her off.

“ _We might be able to face them if we knew who they were, but right now they are probably fresh and you all just finished fighting off wyverns and what seemed to have been half of the town. It’s stupid to fight an opponent that’s possibly stronger than you, is there? Retreat like any sane person would! It says so in the Thirty-Six Strategies of War!”_

Jeanne planted the butt of her staff into the ground, a determined expression on her face. “No. I won’t run. I must at least find out what their true intentions are!” Jeanne declared.

“But Jeanne,” Mash protested as most of our party readied themselves for whatever was decided next.

_“It’s no use, we won’t make it! Mash, Ritsuka, Jacob, just take your Servants and run, got it?”_

I looked at the French Servant who was resigned to dying if that was what would happen next, and bit back a curse. “No.”

“ _What?!?”_

“Jacob Senpai?” Roman and Mash roared and asked respectively at once.

“I said no. If they are moving in as fast as you say they are, Roman, then running would only further tire us until they do catch up. Besides that, I’m not leaving anyone to die. This town has seen that happen too much today. Mordred, Sasaki, prepare to fight!

“I haven’t run from a fight yet, and I’ll be damned if I start now. Let’s give them hell!” Mordred snarled under her helmet, taking up position to the right of Jeanne. Sasaki merely sighed softly with his eyes closed, before opening them.

“Nor while any pass me whilst I stand,” the Assassin said in his near-monotone manner as he took up his position on the other side of the wide-eyed Ruler.

“Master…” Jeanne started to say before I raised my hand.

“Remember, you’re not fighting alone. Besides, Mordred would harass me over this if I just left this fight,” I added, looking dryly at my first Servant. She merely shrugged without a shred of apology or denial, causing me to snort in amusement. Jeanne however shot me a small and beautiful smile before looking back forward.

“We’re staying too then,” Ritsuka said, standing next to me as Mash and his other Servants formed up behind mine. I grinned and nodded to my friend.

For a few minutes, we saw or heard nothing. Then, the sound of several sets of footsteps, walking calmly and at an even pace, until we saw them emerging from the smoke.

The five Servants appeared before us, though my focus, along with that of the others, was drawn to the lead Servant. Her armor was blackened, as was her clothing. Her skin was pale, almost ashen. Her hair was a pale blonde that bordered on the edge of being white in color, and was cut short. She carried a banner that bored aloft a stylized dragon emblem. Her yellow eyes blazed at hatred as she stared at Jeanne, who stared back at the Servant that looked like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have the scene set for the Saint Sisters first interactions! Time for tea, cookies, and talking about boys *Mordred appears and whispers in ear* Well, apparently that's not the case.
> 
> Anyway, in all seriousness, I felt inspired to do this scene at a rapid pace because aside form a view extra things, it was mainly a transitional chapter to set up the Servant duels at La Charité and all that other stuff, so I hope you enjoyed! Especially hope you like Mordred's perspective. Planning on doing it from the third person a bit more often in this story.
> 
> Now, for the questions of the day: What were your thoughts about the interactions and relationship between Mordred and Kairi Shishigou in Fate/Apocrypha? Also, what are y'all thoughts about the idea of later seeing child Mordred's outfit being used (in a modified form of course) on adult Mordred?
> 
> On that note, I shall see you all next chapter! :)


	11. Jeanne Alter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our band of heroes finally meet the Dragon Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter posted :) Not much to say right now, so I will post more at the bottom. Now, hope you enjoy chapter 11! :)

This certainly was a thing

My eyes flicked back and forth between the two Jeannes. The one I had formed a temporary contract with growled at her alternative self.

“Who knew,” Jeanne Alter started to say, shaking her head in mocking disbelief. “Who knew such a thing could happen?” Jeanne merely glared at her alternate self as the latter began cackling.

“Could someone please pour some water on me? This is so bad, it’s awful! I think I am really going to lose it.” She threw her head back and released a full-throated laugh before continuing. “It’s so funny I could _die_ from laughing!” Behind her, the other four Servants merely watched, saying nothing.

“Take a look Giles! Look at that pathetic girl! What is she? A mouse? A worm?” Suddenly the cruel smirk twisted itself into a grimace as a look of pure disgust shone our way. “Either way, they’re all the same! So funny, I can’t even muster any sympathy.”

“As if you were capable of any,” I muttered darkly. Alternative Jeanne continue speaking.

“Ah…truly,” the other Jeanne mock-sighed. “A country that could only cling to ‘me’…comparing them to mice is an insult to mice. Hey, Giles, don’t you think,” she began to say, looking over her shoulder, only to stop and frown. “Oh, I see. We didn’t bring Giles along.”

Jeanne couldn’t take it anymore, it seemed. “You…” she said. “Who are you?” She demanded. The other Jeanne stopped her mocking tirade, a serious expression appearing on her face as she looked directly at Jeanne.

“I could ask the same of you,” she mused before shrugging. “Right, as a leader, let me answer that. I am Jeanne d’Arc. The saint devoted to France…the other ‘me’.” Jeanne gaped at the leering Servant.

“What?” She spluttered. “That’s nonsense. You are no saint, just as I am not one. However, that is already a thing of the past. Why did you attack this town?” The other Jeanne laughed

“Why, you ask?” She asked, controlling her giggles. “As the same Jeanne d’Arc, I thought you would understand. Are you that stupid now that your alignment has changed? The reason I attacked this town? My, what a foolish question.” My, how much this Servant enjoys monologuing.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Evil Jeanne asked, a cruel expression on her face that spoke of enjoyment. “It is for the sole purpose of destroying France. I am, after all, a Servant. Politically, economically, those methods take too long. Is it not better to simply physically crush everything?” For a few moments, none os us spoke. I had expected to hear something of revenge…but this just feels like she is doing it for the hell of it. Like a simple game to pass the time.

“Such foolishness!” Jeanne finally exclaimed, a look of horror and repulsion etched on her features.

“’Such foolishness?’” Evil Jeanne mockingly repeated. “The foolish ones are us, Jeanne d’Arc. Why did you want to save this country? Why did you want to bring salvation to these people? All the while knowing that they are the ones who spit on and betrayed us!” Jeanne Alter shouted, her eyes wide with rage. She took a deep breath, perhaps to calm herself somewhat, perhaps just so she could continue her monologue. Jeeze, I thought that this was the kind of scene for a Saturday morning cartoon!

“I will be fooled no longer. I will be betrayed no longer,” Jeanne Alter resumed speaking, her voice even. “I no longer hear the voice of the Lord. The fact that I cannot hear His voice must mean that the Lord no longer blesses this country. Therefore, in accordance to the Lord’s grief, I will cut away all the bad seeds at the root. As long as the human race exists, so will my hatred. I will remake this France into a land of dragons and the dead. That’s how I shall save this country. By the hands of the new Jeanne d’Arc, reborn through death,” she said solemnly, arms spread out to either side as if addressing an adoring crowd. Then she lowers them, smirking at her horrified other self. “I suppose you could never understand. You were always playing the saint. Impossible for a pretty little holy virgin who pretends not to see Hatred and joy and is incapable of human growth!” Jeanne Alter snarled, slamming her foot onto the broken back of a fallen townsfolk. Her words have been directed at only Jeanne, and I had grown tired of this.

I pushed myself forward, startling Ritsuka and Mash, who were unable to stop me in their surprise, and then past Sasaki and Jeanne, glaring at our opponents. Alternative Jeanne barely gazed at me, so I decided to change that.

“Enough with the monologuing!” I shouted, actually managing to stun the apparent ‘Dragon Witch’. Her yellow eyes refocused on me with an intensity that I could have done without. I fought the urge to lick my suddenly-dry lips as I felt the temperature around me appear to increase slightly. My mind was cussing me out for my hot-headedness of the previous moment.

“Oh? What’s this? A mouse, pretending to be a lion?” She finally asked, mockingly. “Mice should learn their place, or else be scalded by the fire,” Jeanne Alter teased menacingly.

“Only over my cold, dead body!” Mordred snarled, breaking formation to position herself before me. Jeanne Alter merely rolled her eyes, however, and turned around slightly to look at the four Servants behind her.

“This has gone on long enough, though. Berserker Lancer. Berserker Assassin. Finish off that idiotic country girl. You’re getting tired of small prey, aren’t you?” Jeanne Alter cooed in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Rejoice then, for they are stronger. Among all the Servants I summoned, your thirst for blood are the strongest. You exist to crush the brave,” She said as a man with pale blonde hair and turquoise coloration at the end, wielding a stake-like spear stepped forward, as well as a woman wearing a cruel-looking metal mask. Jeanne Alter waved her hand towards her other self dismissively. “Devour them to you hearts content.”

Wait, so the Servants that Jeanne Alter was commanding had been given the Mad Enhancement trait?!? The way that the two were eyeing Jeanne hungrily gave me the shivers as they slowly advanced closer, while the fallen Ruler and her other two Servants watched idly.

“Very well,” the male Servant said in a deep, rich tone. “Now, I will have your blood,” he said, pointing towards the Ruler. The female Servant next to him clucks her tongue in disapproval.

“No so fast, ‘my king’. I would like to partake of her flesh and blood, as well as her insides,” Berserker Assassin chided Berserker Lancer.

“But not her soul?” Berserker Lancer asked rather skeptically, causing his comrade to cackle dismissively.

“I care not for souls, only the blood of maidens. The blood of those more beautiful than me, can only elevate my beauty!” Berserker Assassin said in an almost breathless, orgasmic manner that caused my body to shudder in revulsion.

“Well, well, well,” Mordred muttered under her breath. “Another face from the Greater Grail War.”

“You know one of them?” I asked, as Jeanne hurried over to join the Knight of Rebellion. The Saber grunted, tilting her helmet slightly towards the male Servant.

“He was the Lancer of Black, the opposing side. I didn’t get a chance to go up against him, however. According to my Master, though, his True Name is Vlad III Tepes. Be glad we’re not on Romanian soil,” Mordred explained.

“Oh great. So, we have the man most associated with the word ‘impalement’ _with_ Berserker traits!” I groaned, slapping a hand to my face. “What about Miss Crazy? Has any one here been summoned against her?” Said Servant merely smirked, her orange eyes blazing through the eye-slits of her metal mask. Vlad, however, frowned, clearly unamused by either my statement, Mordred revealing his true name, or (seeing as how our luck is currently shaping up) most likely both.

“Oh, stop pouting over the whole name thing,” Berserker Assassin said in a tone of exasperation. “I would rather be remembered by a bad name than not at all. Besides,” the Servant said, her tone adopting a sickeningly sweet aspect, “I prefer to be called by my True Name. Dread and despair, faintly spiced with hope. I am Elisabeth Báthory, though I prefer to use Carmilla. Now, give me your maiden blood,” the self-proclaimed Carmilla cooed at Jeanne.

“Enough with the banter! Kill them,” Jeanne Alter snapped, and the two Servants stopped talking. I looked at Ritsuka, a nervous but determined expression on his face.

“Ritsuka, have your Servants focus on Miss Bloodlust over there. Mine will deal with the Count,” I said, and my fellow Master nodded, turning to his Servants.

“Good luck,” the Japanese Master said before they dashed towards the Berserker Assassin. I turned to Mordred.

“Kick his ass,” I muttered, receiving a soft chuckle as the Saber adjusted her posture.

“Understood, Master!” She said before pushing herself forward, becoming a blur of steel and red. Vlad’s eyes widened slightly before he raised his spear, just in time. He grunts as Clarent pushes down on the shaft, Mordred using both her hands.

Vlad’s right foot shot out, connecting with Mordred’s midriff and sending her skidding backwards a few feet, but otherwise doing nothing besides irritating the Knight of Rebellion. Jeanne and Sasaki stay back for now, but still remain ready to assist the knight. I ignore the fight between Ritsuka’s Servants and Carmilla, trusting my friend to hold off the bloody psycho (no pun intended).

Mordred was sent flying back by a shoulder shove from the inspiration for Count Dracula, briefly out of the fight. The Berserker Lancer charged at Jeanne when Sasaki unleashed his Noble Phantasm. Even thought it wasn’t the first time I had seen it, as during the previous week the new Servants had agreed to demonstrate their ultimate attacks against simulated Servants, I still found it awe-inspiring to see the trio of blades appear.

Vlad roared in anger as one of the blades managed to nick his shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood, but otherwise causing no significant damage. It did, however, achieve the desired result of distracting the Servant from Mordred’s recovery.

Shouting under her helmet, Mordred lunged forward again. Clarent swung in a blur of steel, sparks erupting whenever the Berserker Lancer blocked the attacks with his own weapon. I remain rooted to the spot, my eyes glued to the near-dancing figures as they tried to land a critical blow.

A kick from Mordred was deflected with a spear shaft. A lunge was ducked under as Mordred tried to throw a punch, trying to use the brawling aspect of her fighting style I had discovered her fondness for, and that which also made her a terrifying opponent to be against in battle.

A roar has me looking skywards, however, and I notice a trio of wyverns swooping down. If Jeanne Alter really was the one commanding these foul beasts, then they must have come here as a distraction. “Sasaki, Jeanne! Wyverns diving, 1 o’clock high! Take them down!”

“ _Hai._ ”

“Yes Master!”

My other two Servants adjusted their position to deal with the winged beasts as quickly as possible. Seeing nothing immediately indicating a higher threat than the average wyvern we’ve encountered thus far, I don’t expect that it would take too long. In the meantime, I have the utmost confidence that Mordred could and would hold her own against Vlad, even with the latter having the Berserker trait.

And of course, I still had my Command Spells if needed. Turning back to look at my Servant, however, reveals that might not be necessary, or at least, not yet.

With a feral-sounding roar, Mordred swung Clarent, finally breaking through Vlad’s guard. The long metal blade sliced through the clothing, and a slightly geyser of blood erupted diagonally from the Berserker Lancer’s chest. Unfortunately, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it was still enough to cause her foe to curse loudly before jumping back. His right hand clutched his spear, while his left pressed against the chest wounded, eyes burning with anger and loathing at my Servant.

“Nice work, Mordred,” I called out to her, and she merely grunted in acknowledgement, her eyes focused on her now-injured opponent. I spare a glance to check on the rest of the party, making sure that they were doing well as well.

Jeanne stabs her flagpole downwards into the chest of a wounded wyvern, silencing the shriek of pain that it had been releasing. Meanwhile, Carmilla had just leapt backwards to avoid a beam of magical energy shot by a floating Medea, only to be rushed from the side by Mash. Unable to dodge in time, the Berserker Assassin was sent skirting backwards, wiping a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth with distaste, glaring at the Demi-Servant.

“Group back up,” I barked, continuing to take charge over the situation. Ritsuka rushes to stand next to me, eye glinting in concern for his own Servants. That in turn gives way to relief at seeing that only Chulainn has any sort of injuries, and even then, the claw marks over his right arm should heal within the next few hours.

“What’s the plan?” Ritsuka asked me in a low tone. I bit my lip in thought, mind whirling. The normal thoughts of anxiety and self-doubt have been kept silent, perhaps because of the recent teamwork, or perhaps because there has been no time for it to set in yet.

“We’re still outnumbered in a way. There are three fresh Servants over there, and I’m willing to bet my next paycheck that the other two share the Berserker trait. We have no idea about their Noble Phantasms, or if there are more of them hiding in Spirit Form,” I observed, gritting my teeth. Fortunately, it appears that the two vampires were more interested in bickering over their unexpected defeats.

“You right there, the young lady with the purple hair.” Carmilla’s voice prevented any further thoughts or discussion on escape as the Berserker Assassin and the Berserker Lancer stared at Mash. “You smell horrible,” she hissed. “A girl of such tender years, yet so battle-hardened. How contradictory. Who are you?”

It wasn’t Mash who answered, but Jeanne Alter. “A Demi-Servant,” she said, a thoughtful expression on her face as she regarded Mash. “An anomaly, a cross between a human and a Servant. I see now that I made a mistake. You two,” her eyes flicked over at the two vampires, a critical and severe countenance being shown, “are crueler than the others, but that’s why you’re both so playful. Let the remaining three deal with them.”

Vlad stared indignantly at the fallen Ruler. “Wait, Carmilla and I can still fight! The saint’s blood belongs to us,” he protested. “As if I would allow mere executioners who know nothing of the radiance of blood, the _grandeur_ or blood, take…” his nauseating tirade was cut off.

“Shut up,” Jeanne Alter said. “Know your place, Vlad III. No matter how much authority you may have had in life, you’re all equals as Servants.” The Berserker Lancer’s jaw clicked shut, though he glared at Jeanne Alter as she continued speaking. “You wanted so badly to drain that fool of her blood that you held back. Regardless of if you meant to or not, you haven’t learned a thing.” She slammed the butt of her weapon against the cobblestone road, causing chips of rock to fly as she broke one of the stones.

“I hate people like that,” she seethed, Vlad now wilting under her gaze. “Stay out of it this time. Understand?” Vlad nodded once, and fell behind with Carmilla.

Jeanne Alter proceeded forward, flanked by a female Servant with a staff topped with a silver cross and purple hair to her right. To the fallen Ruler’s left was an androgynous-looking Servant dressed like a French musketeer of the last decades of the Kingdom of France, wielding a thin rapier.

Overhead, another dozen or so wyverns had been summoned, with more undoubtedly on their way to join in. The odds had gone from bad to worse. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what to do when my temporary Servant spoke up.

“Master, leave me behind. I will buy you time to escape,” Jeanne insisted, leaving unsaid the fact that by doing so she would sacrifice herself. The idea of using someone else in such a way ignites a burning sensation in my stomach. My blood felt like it was starting to boil in anger. Next to me I could hear Mash and Roman talking in frantic and panicked tones, but I ignored the words, my eyes locked onto the pleading Ruler.

“Damn it, Jeanne!” I snarled angrily. “I said that I’m not leaving anyone behind to die, and an Aronson does not make empty promises! Mordred, you ready for round two?”

Before the prideful Servant could respond however, she stiffened as we heard the sound of something whistling through the air. A moment later, and peculiar object landed between the two groups, drawing all eyes and attention to it. I blink my eyes rapidly, not quiet believing that which I was seeing.

“What the…” Jeanne Alter asked in a rather startled tone, eyes narrowing in on the object between us. “A glass rose?”

“It’s not elegant,” a voice said as a pair of footsteps was heard. “Neither is this city, or that combat style. Quite frankly, I don’t like your philosophy or principles either. You’re so beautiful, yet you shroud yourself in blood and hatred.” The voice sounded young and feminine, and was getting closer. The words seemed to be aimed at Jeanne Alter, who appeared to be becoming even more aggravated. “Whether it is for good or evil, shouldn’t a person try to be freer?”

“Another Servant?” Ritsuka whispered towards me.

“Most likely,” I whispered back. The question was, were they here to help, or were they going to turn this into a sort of Mexican standoff. Then the owner of the voice, and presumably the glass rose, appeared.

It was a young-looking girl, with pale white skin. Her bright, light blue eyes gleaming. Her hair was long and white, pure as snow, and she seemed to have an aura of royalty about her. She wore a red dress of sorts, complete with one of the most unusual headwear I have seen, real or imaginary. It vaguely reminded me of both a mushroom and a character from a certain platform game involving plumbers. If she wasn’t a Servant, then she certainly had bravery somewhere inside her.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m so happy,” she nearly gushed. “This is what it means to announce oneself as a hero of justice!” Her mirth faded as she focused on Jeanne Alter, a sad expression tinged with pity showing. “I know who you are. I also know how powerful and terrifying you are. Truth be told, I must confess that I’ve never trembled in fear before anyone else. Despite that, however, if you intend on destroying this nation, then I shall face you even if I have to tear apart my dress. You may be asking why, and the answer is…” The Servant paused momentarily, displaying a love of theatrics perhaps. Berserker Saber, however, appears to have already known who she was, their jaw dropped slightly.

“You are…” They began to say, but not finish, perhaps unable or unwilling to utter another world. The girl gave the enemy Saber a small, soft smile.

“Oh my. So, you know my True Name? We’ve met before, haven’t me, my splendid knight?” For the love of all that is holy, can we stop it with the word games?!? Jeanne Alter shared my sentiment, it seems, for the fallen Ruler looked at the surprised Servant.

“Saber,” she said in a stern tone. “Who is this pest?” However, her subordinate didn’t respond, causing the Dragon Witch to glare menacingly. “Answer me,” she said in a warning manner.

“I can tell who she is, even with the murderous rage that is burning in my heart. Her beauty is as unmistakable now as it was in life. She is the Flower of Versailles. She is Marie Antoinette,” the enhanced Servant finally answered, gaze still focused on the apparent former Queen. Said Servant released a soft giggle, her eyes twinkling in mirth once more.

“That’s right!” Marie Antoinette confirmed with a wide grin. “Thank you for saying my name, splendid knight!” The joy on her face was toned down, a hint of steel appearing in both her eyes and voice. “And as long as that name exists, I will play my role, no matter how foolish it might be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we get to see the delightful Marie Antoinette. Also, we're almost at 1,000 views for this story! I am so happy and proud of this work!!!! :)
> 
> So, the past few chapters I have felt like I was copying the dialogue way too much of the characters who are suppose to be present. Of course, in some ways, I guess it can't be helped, but I plan on trying to either mix up or reinvent some of the dialogue used in the game when it feels right to me, or skip over some of it like Roman's panic and asking his favorite internet idol for help.
> 
> Now, I am probably going to try to maintain my one chapter a week minimum policy that I have been doing recently, even though I am in college again, because, quite honestly, being there sucks right now. This story is my main way of coping, and I hope that it doesn't affect the quality.
> 
> Now, on a brighter note, the question(s) of the day! First: Out of the Servants in the original storyline for the First Singularity, which one was your absolute favorite? If you have multiple, then pick your top three
> 
> Second question: what are your thoughts about Marie's outfit?
> 
> As always, I look forward to your answers. Hope you enjoyed the story, and please let me know what you think, whether it is feedback or just simply parts you enjoyed! Thanks again for all the amazing support for this story so far, and I will see you in chapter 12!


	12. Marie Antoinette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marie Antoinette appears to help our intrepid heroes! Also, Ritsuka and Jacob have a little chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, it was fun to re-watch the scene with Marie and Mozart talking about insults and Whassup. Hope you enjoy!

Marie Antoinette. The wife of King Louis XVI, and the last Queen of France.

Well, if one thing is certain about what our current situation is now, it is that Jeanne and her two fresh Servants were no longer advancing. I turned to Ritsuka and Mash. “Get ready. Either we will take our chances and rush them, try to break free.” My two friends nodded in agreement as I turned around, listening in once more to the last Queen of France.

“Silence!” Jeanne Alter roared. Instead of cowing the verbose queen, however, it merely quiets her as she cocked her head slightly. “You lack the right to participate in this battle.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Marie Antoinette asked innocently. Jeanne Alter’s lip curled in distaste and contempt.

“You led a life of luxury in a palace and died without even knowing what happened! Are you saying that you can somehow understand our hatred?” The alternate version of Jeanne d’Arc spat, staring incredulously. For a moment, a thoughtful expression graced the visage of the newcomer. Then she shrugged and delivered her response.

“I suppose I can’t,” Marie Antoinette admitted, causing Jeanne Alter’s hackles to rise once more. Before the fallen Ruler can retort, however, the Servant continues speaking. “But that just simply makes me want to know more, Dragon Witch.” Said Dragon Witch’s right eye began twitching violently.

“…What?” She finally said.

“What I don’t know, I learn. That’s my policy,” Marie Antoinette explained, looking sadly at the enemy Servant. “That’s why I can’t bear to look at you like this. Oh, Jeanne d’Arc, beloved saint!” The shout caused the Dragon Witch to recoil in anger for a brief moment. “All I know is that you’re taking your rage out on the innocent, and I’ve not the faintest idea why. Everything’s disappearing into a haze, like a girl going for a Sunday walk. What I do know, however, is this,” said the queen as she walked over towards us.

“Along with the Jeanne d’Arc over there,” my temporary Servant blinked, startled by the gesture, “is that I will make your heart and body mine!’

“What?” Mash asked in confusion.

“The hell?” Chulainn said.

“Oh my,” Medea giggled.

“Uh….huh?” Jeanne asked, her cheeks flushed with color as she stared at Marie. As to my reaction? I felt my right eye twitch slightly as the various implications behind that statement might be.

….Is it too late to resume the mortal combat that we were about to have now?

“Oh, my,” Marie laughed awkwardly, eyes swapping from Jeanne to Mash to Ritsuka to myself. “Oh dear, oh dear. Um, please don’t misunderstand me,” she said, her pale cheeks becoming a rosy pink as blood rushed up. “I just meant that as a queen, I’m going to bring you to your knees.” The air fell silent at that, as even Jeanne Alter stared with a slack jaw and a dumbstruck expression on her face.

“…what?” I finally manage to say, suppressing the urge to either slam my head against a wall or throw myself off of the tallest building in town. Seriously, did the Queen of France just _propositioned_ Jeanne d’Arc? “Mordred, please tell me this is a fever dream caused by undercooked meat,” I groaned to the armored knight that has now started to snicker quietly.

“Sorry Master, but this…this is comedy gold,” she chortled. I rolled my eyes dramatically at the Knight of Rebellion. Over our open communication link to Chaldea, I can faintly hear Roman gurgling in dismay. For once, the sometime over-dramatic (at least, in my opinion) ginger was spot on as he moaned about his image of the queen before us was fading away before his eyes.

“Enough of this farce!” Jeanne Alter howled, and for once I found myself agreeing somewhat with the Dragon Witch. “Very well then,” she declared, pointing her weapon at the French queen, “you are also an enemy to be crushed. Servants, silence that annoying brat! Then we will deal with the others.

“Well, this is as good a time as any,” Marie Antoinette sighed, staring at the advancing Servants. “Thank you for your patience, Amadeus. Crush them like bugs!”

“Leave it to me,” another figure suddenly appeared in front of us. He had a slightly demonic visage that contrasted with the colorful robes of purple, black, and green. In his right hand he gripped a rod not unlike one that a conductor would use at a symphony. “Noble Phantasm, Requiem for Death!” With a wave of his rod, a host of phantom-like figures appeared and began to play music, directed straight towards the enemy Servants.

“Now then, good day to you all,” Marie Antoinette said cheerfully, giving a simple yet elegant courtesy. “ _Au revoir,_ ” she said as she straightened back up. She looked back at us. “Come on, it’ll only hold them back for a little bit. Follow us,” she said in a softer tone. I looked over to my companions, asking silently for their opinions.

Seeing only nods or shrugs, we followed after the duo. Behind us, I could hear Jeanne Alter snarling in frustration.

* * *

“Looks like it is safe now,” Marie Antoinette said. After having made our escape from La Charité, the French Servant and her friend Amadeus had led us to the outskirts of a decent-sized forest after forty-five minutes of running. For the sake of Ritsuka and I, a few five-minute breaks had been taken in between the two locations to allow us to catch our breath while the Servants with us stood guard.

Thankfully, however, it seems that whatever this Amadeus character had done did the trick, for our flight had been unmolested with combat. Looking at the French queen, I activated my commlink.

“Doctor Roman, any readings of Servants nearby?”

 _“None. It looks like you lost them for now. However, I am picking up Leyline readings from that nearby forest,”_ the acting director for Chaldea reported. Well, looks like we might have found the location to set up our base camp.

“Very well,” Mash said, turning to the two French Servants in our little group. “Jeanne? And…Marie?” Asked the Demi-Servant hesitantly. A feeling that I shared. Until now, the closest to royalty we had dealt with on a consistent basis was Mordred, who thankfully did not lord it about (over than her typical ‘rants’ about her father). The Servant perked up, staring intently at a now-uncomfortable Mash.

“Marie, did you say?”

“F-forgive me,” Mash stammered. “I-“ Before she could finish apologizing however, a wide and honest smile graced the queen’s lips as she clasped her hands excitedly.

“Oh no, you weren’t being rude! Quite the opposite, really, you made me so happy!” Her blue eyes once more twinkled with joy. “The way you addressed me was so adorable! Please, splendid foreigners! Would you mind calling me that from now on?” Marie Antoinette implored Mash, and by default the rest of our group.

“Uh, yes,” Mash said, a bit awkwardly. “Miss Marie, or Mademoiselle Marie, perhaps?” She offered, perhaps not quite comfortable yet with addressing a queen so informally, even with the explicit permission/request of one. Marie pouted slightly as she shook her head emphatically.

“Nope, those won’t work at all,” she responded. “Just Marie! Like the sheep!” She added with a soft giggle.

“I’m pretty sure that was ‘Mary’,” I muttered, before nudging Ritsuka forward. I might be taking the lead for this mission at the moment, but I wasn’t going to sideline my friend and colleague.

“It’s nice to mee you, Marie,” Ritsuka said with a smile, bowing slightly. Marie clapped her hands again. My god, is she just a bundle of joy and energy? It certainly was infectious, for even Mordred, whose helmet was now retracted, had a subtle grin on display.

“Yes!” She gushed. “Yes, yes, yes! Nice to meet you! I’m Marie. I love understanding gentlemen. Let me guess,” she said, a mischievous grin appearing. “You must be very popular with the opposite sex, right?” She asked Ritsuka. Both he and Mash flushed. My, she certainly is willing to speak from the heart it seems.

“Um…Marie, may I speak?” Mash asked, cheeks still a faint red. Marie herself also blushes as she realizes what she just did.

“Oh, my apologies,” she said apologetically, appearing to be calm again. “I got excited for a minute. How rude of me. So, how may I be of service?”

“A strong Leyline was detected in that nearby forest. we’d like to head there and make camp, if that is all right?” She asked in her typical, timid and polite manner. Marie nodded.

“Of course, that’s fine. Is that all right with you, Amadeus?” She asked, turning to her rather quiet companion. He shrugged, closing his eyes and grinning softly at the Servant.

“There’s no point in asking for my opinion,” he said nonchalantly. “Do what you want, Marie.”

“Well, it seems like we have a unanimous agreement,” Jeanne said after none of the other Servants contracted with Ritsuka and I spoke up. Mash nodded, and then turned around towards our next destination.

“Let’s start moving out. We can rest properly once we set up a camp. Then we can talk about our next move,” Mash offered. I nodded in appreciation at the Demi-Servant.

“That sounds like a fine idea to me. Good thinking Mash,” I said with a smile. With that decided, we began to move out once more.

Even though it appears that no more Servants are following us, at least for the moment, not a single one of us lowered our guards. Mash and Mordred were in the lead along with me. Meanwhile, Chulainn, Medea, and Sasaki silently brought up the rear.

It must have been less than five minutes after we entered the forest that I sensed something was wrong. My hands gripped the hilt of my sword, pulling it free from the sheath as someone from behind cried out my name in alarm.

The blow forced me down to one knee as I blocked a sword that was more of a club. My arms strained to keep it at bay as some spittle landed on my face as humanoid-shape attacking me snarled ferally. Thankfully, a familiar armored fist slammed into the face of my attacker, sending it stumbling backwards.

“Cowardly bastard!” Mordred hissed, her eyes burning in fury as my assailant shook its head. Finally having a moment to observe it, I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth as I stare at the red-furred, canine-headed humanoid.

“Ok, so first it is the undead. Then it is wyverns and zombies. Now werewolves?” I growled as a dozen or so more werewolves charged out of hiding. They surrounded us, not that it would do any good. “Mordred, you know what to do,” I said calmly. The Knight of Rebellion nodded and charged forward. With a single thrust, she pierces the werewolf’s heart with Clarent before kicking the dying body off of the blade. The other Servants began engaging the ambushers.

“Masters, it seems that just beyond these foes is the Leyline!” Mash reported as she blocked a club from a werewolf before pushing with her shield, throwing the attacker off-balance and therefore vulnerable to the shield bash that Mash followed up with.

In a matter of minutes, the last of the remains of our attackers finished dissolving. Honestly, it kinda felt good to finally defeat a force that was evil but also didn’t have some sort of BS booster.

“Now, I will set up a summoning circle. After that, we can set up our camp,” Mash said, before getting to work while Ritsuka and I, and the others, began to set up our camp and gather wood.

* * *

Once Mash had finished setting up the summoning circle, we then set up our camp again. Judging by the position of the sun, we were approaching the mid-afternoon. Marie coughed politely, after most of our Servants had decided to explore the surrounding perimeter to ensure that there will be no unpleasant visits. I turned to look at the French Queen as she smiled.

“Well, now that things have settled down for now, and that you are all set up, I’d like to introduce myself again. My true name is Marie Antoinette. I’ve been summoned as a Rider,” Marie said, giving another elegant courtesy. “As for who I am, I’d be happy if you could examine me closely with your eyes and ears. As to why I was summoned, however, neither Amadeus nor I have a clue. After all, we both have no Master.” At the mention of his name, Amadeus cleared his throat before speaking.

“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Caster-class. As for why I was summoned, however, I don’t feel like I was a hero. Yes, I was great in life, but even so, I was but one of many artists,” Amadeus shrugged before tapping a finger against his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, I _did_ apply magecraft in my music, but that was only because I was drawn to the sounds played by demons.” For a brief moment, the clearing fell silent at that last part.

Okaaaaaaaaaaay then,” I finally said. “Now for our introductions. I am Jacob Aronson, a Master. It is nice to meet you two,” I said, bowing my head slightly. While Sasaki and the others were standing guard for any wyverns, werewolves, or Servants, Mordred had stayed along with Jeanne.

“Mordred, Saber,” my first Servant said curtly.

“I’m Mash Kyrielight. I am a Demi-Servant, and I have no idea what my True Name is,” the Shielder went next, before gesturing to my fellow Master. “This is Ritsuka Fujimaru, my Master.” The Japanese Magus waved one hand a bit lazily.

“Whassup,” he said, causing me to resist the urge to slap my face. I thought that joke had died out years ago.

“Oh my! What an interesting greeting! Wh…Whassup! My homies!” I raised a hand over my mouth to hide the smile at the sight of a member of royalty tried to speak like a 21st Century girl. Mordred blinked slowly.

“Hmph,” Marie sighed, slightly put out apparently. “It seems different when Ritsuka said it…maybe I need to think more like a peasant…” the Rider muttered, looking up at the sky as if for inspiration. Meanwhile, I notice Mash gently elbow her Master.

“Come on,” she said quietly. “Don’t teach her weird greetings.” Before Ritsuka could respond, however, Marie snapped her fingers, an _a-ha_ expression on her face.

“Oh, I’ve got it! I have to be more needy!” She turned to her friend. “Come on, Amadeus! Whassup!”

“Whassup! I like it, Marie. Keep it up! I can feel the love of a century beginning to fade!”

“…. say what now?” I notice as I said that how Marie’s smile faded a bit.

“Hmmph,” the Rider sighed crossly, glaring at her companion. “I’m sorry, Ritsuka. Whassup is a very stimulating greeting, but I must reluctantly refrain from it.” At seeing the confused expression on our faces, she continued explaining. “If Amadeus likes it, that must mean it’s not appropriate for a lady to use.”

The Caster scoffed slightly and waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s not be slanderous here. You’re acting like I’m a pervert gentleman who loves dirty jokes.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re a child when it comes to everything _but_ music.” Despite her choice of words, I get the feeling that there is not actual hostility between the two, and that the conversation is merely a playful argument between friends.

“So, you are Jeanne d’Arc, yes?” Marie asked, looking at the Ruler with a reverent expression. “The saint who saved France. One of the people I wished to meet in my life.” Once more Jeanne looked down at her feet a bit awkwardly at the mention of her status as a saint.

“…I’m, not a saint,” she finally said, unable or unwilling to look at her countrywoman. Marie shook her head slightly.

“Yes, everyone knows that’s how you saw yourself. But the way you led your life was true, and we all know the results. That’s why everyone will always remember and admire the name Jeanne d’Arc, and the miracle of Orléans.” The words do little to sway Jeanne, and Amadeus sighed, rolling his eyes at the queen.

“Of course, your life ended at the stake and resulted in that witch. It’s just like Marie to only look at the good parts,” he said with lighthearted exasperation before focusing on the Ruler. “Am I wrong, Jeanne d’Arc? Your life was a little out of tune. Jeanne herself is the one who gets hurt when people call her a perfect saint. Listen, Marie. You always say what you think others _want_ to hear, not what they _need_ to hear. Sometimes you need to scold or deny others,” he chided to his friend.

Marie crossed her arms. “I-I don’t need to hear that from you, Amadeus!” She stammered. “You already tell me that every day! T-This is what you want, right? Piano-brain! Piece of human garbage!”

“Hey, Master,” I turned to Mordred, noticing the bemusement in her eyes as she whispered to me. “Do you know if Roman is recording this?” I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at her comment, desperately trying to not giggle. Marie’s face suddenly turned bright red as she continued ranting at her friend.

“You’re a pervert who can only get it up for musical scales! If you like music so much, you should turn into a piano!” At that point, my resistance finally breaks. I bend forward slightly, unable to suppress my laughter. Ok, I hope Roman is recording this. Otherwise, I don’t think anyone will believe what a queen had just suggested!

Amadeus has an expression that simply screams of conflicting emotions at that last insult. He took a few seconds before finally speaking. “….I don’t know if I should say this, but when you insult me like that, I feel something indescribable,” he mused, before suddenly smiling. “But see? You can do it if you try! Go on now, give the same treatment to Jeanne. Faster. Stronger. More violent! Tell her all of her flaws as you seem them!” _‘This…this is the man whose music so many children listen to growing up…I’m semi-speechless…’_ I thought to myself as Marie calmed down, shaking her head at Amadeus’s suggestion.

“ _Non_ , that’s impossible Amadeus,” she replied, a serious expression on her face for once. Human garbage like you has nothing but flaws. But Jeanne herself has none.” Out of the corner of my eye, I notice both of my two female blonde Servants stiffening. Jeanne, I could understand. Why Mordred was reacting to that last part, though, I have no idea. I frown, wondering what could be bothering her, but elect to say nothing for the moment.

Amadeus runs a hand down his face, shaking his head sadly. “Are you serious? I didn’t know you had it _that_ bad. You really did love Jeanne d’Arc, didn’t you?” Marie shrugged, the high energy and positivity I have quickly come to realize was usual of her still subdue.

“I would say ‘worship’, rather than ‘love’, And a bit of guilt as well,” She added, glancing regretfully at the saint. “…a tiny ‘sorry’, the size of a teaspoon. The natural guilt we foolish royals felt towards the saint we did not rescue.” Those words finally cause Jeanne to look up, a sad smile on her face.

“Marie Antoinette. Your words honor me, but that’s why I must confess. In life, I was no saint. I held the flag high for what I believed in, and as a result, I stained my hands with blood. Of course, I don’t regret that. Nor do I regret the Inquisition or my own death,” she admitted. “But I shed too much blood. I believed in the dreams of a little country girl, but at the time, I never imagined how high the price of that dream was. I never regretted it, nor did I feel fear. And that is my greatest sin,” Jeanne said sadly.

“Only the outcome of my actions made me a saint. I do not think it’s the right word for a country girl like me,” she finished. Marie said nothing for a long minute, her eyes examining the now-silent Ruler before finally nodding my head, apparently finding whatever it was she was looking for.

“…I see,” she finally said. “So, you’re not a saint, right? Then, may I call you Jeanne?”

“Y-yes,” stammered a surprised Jeanne, though she recovered quickly. “Of course. It feels like that would bring back old memories. Good memories.”

“Wonderful,” Marie smiled. “Call me Marie, then. If you’re simply Jeanne, and not a saint, then I want to be Marie, and not a queen. Please Jeanne, will you call me Marie?” The Rider implored with an earnest smile.

“All right,” Jeanne nodded with a small smile. “Thank you, Marie.”

“And thank you as well,” Maire replied good-naturedly, her smile wide and full of teeth. “I am sorry for how I keep pushing my own views on you. You’ve lost your own answers about yourself, haven’t you? Just like the day I died, not knowing a thing about what was going on. We’ll have to find our own answers. I certainly want to treat you as a saint, but I’ll stop myself!” Marie declared. “I won’t believe in you, no, I will support you! Is that not what female friends are supposed to do, Amadeus?”

The Caster smiled slightly before shrugging. “I suppose so, yeah? You guys can go eat sweets or something,” he said nonchalantly. As much as I was enjoying this moment, however, it was time to get back on track. I coughed politely, getting the attention of the trio of Servants along with my three friends.

“Well, at least we have our own merry band of travelers,” I said, smiling slightly. True, Jeanne Alter was still around, along with numerous over Servants under her command and whatnot, but now we have even more allies. Better yet, the lack of having summoned a Servant belonging to the Rider class was no longer an issue. “However, as much as I would love for us to spend the rest of the day like this, we can’t ignore what we have seen today. Mash, do you mind filling in Marie and Amadeus about what has happened?”

The Demi-Servant nodded and turned to the two, who listened attentively. I turned and walked over to Ritsuka. “How are you doing?” Ritsuka didn’t meet my gaze, shrugging.

“I’m okay.” I frowned and looked at Mordred and Jeanne.

“Hey guys, you mind giving Ritsuka and I a minute?” Jeanne nodded in understanding, while Mordred just shrugged and walked over to the unlit campfire. Now that we were alone, I looked back at my fellow Master. “Ok. It’s just us now. What’s wrong?”

To his credit, Ritsuka kept himself composed as he looked up, a mixture of frustration and sadness in his blue eyes. “I-it’s just…. I feel so helpless right now, and I hate it!” Ah. I had a suspicion this might happen. I find it a bit ironic that I was helping someone else out with self-doubt when I had gone through my own one not even a week ago. I reached out a hand and gripped his shoulder.

“Is it because of what happened in town, or the fact that you feel like you only contribute by providing Servants with contracts?” I asked.

“A bit of both, I suppose…” Ritsuka muttered dejectedly. I sighed internally. His heart is in the right place at least.

“First of all, you haven’t been helpless or useless. For one thing, you saved my sorry ass from that zombie,” I said, causing Ritsuka to adjust his posture, straightening slightly. “Secondly, on our first day, you risked your life to save a girl you barely met. That was a very brave thing to witness, you know?” For a few seconds, my friend was silent, and I was the same, content to wait for his response.

“Can you teach me?” He said suddenly, a rather intense look on his face. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Teach you what, exactly? I hope you’re not talking about magcraft, because you’re better at it than I am,” I said, half-jokingly. Ritsuka rolled his eyes slightly, unamused.

“Can you teach me to fight, so I can defend myself?” He asked. I bit the inside of my right cheek, mulling over the request. I mean, it’s not like I am a martial artist or something. I could teach him the basics of fencing, though…that might be a good idea.

Honestly, the idea of my friend being able to defend himself if ever a skeleton or something else got past our Servants and, as a last resort, myself, was rather appealing. It might also improve the way Ritsuka views himself. We’re suppose to be partners. Equals.

Yes, I might be taking charge of this current mission, but that won’t be how the next six will go. Presuming, of course, that we survive this one, but that’s not the point right now, I suppose. I hummed at that, before finally nodding.

“When we return to Chaldea, I’ll teach you the basics of fencing. However, don’t ever think you are useless. Ok?” Ritsuka’s eyes light up as he smiled excitedly. I guess he has no idea what learning to fight with a blade is going to be like. I don’t have the heart, though, to pop that bubble of his. I looked over at our Demi-Servant friend.

“Now then, it looks like Mash has finished explaining the situation to our new friends. Let’s go over and start discussing ideas for what to do next, yeah?” Ritsuka nodded, a determined smile on his face as we walked over. At least that issue had been dealt with.

Now all we had to do was to defeat a small army of Servants and mythical creatures and retrieve a Grail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was going to end this chapter with a cliffhanger before a Servant battle, but I forgot how long the section we would be in in-game was, and so I am breaking it up into two or three sections before we see the next Servant Battle (Not going to spoil it for those who haven't played the game yet). Marie is honestly a pleasant gal to write, and so I am looking forward to the moments where I shall write completely originally dialogues and all for her, especially after she is summoned properly in Chaldea!
> 
> So I plan on having Ritsuka be more prominent in terms of combat skill for the following singularities, though obviously neither he nor Jacob could go head-to-head with a Servant, even if it was a shadow Servant. However, I imagine that after being a bystander of sorts to all of the fights recently, he would be a bit depressed and question his value, and therefore ask his friend to help him out or something.
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Do you think that Amadeus and Marie are better as a couple or just as friends?
> 
> The other is should Jeanne and Alter wear their alternate outfits when summoned in Chaldea? (Jeanne as Laticia and Alter in her alternate outfit you can get in-game)
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Any thoughts, questions, feedback? Leave them below! :)  
> Until next chapter! :)


	13. Plans and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company make plans, Mordred listens in to some girl talk, Jacob has another bad dream, and another Servant shows up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, was not expecting to finish and post this chapter so soon, but hey, when one feels inspired, they do, or something like that. *shrug* Anyways, enjoy!

“…Now I understand,” Marie finally said. “Not just France, but the whole world is in danger. Although the form is different, we are still in a Holy Grail War, _non?”_ She asked, receiving a nod from Mash. We were seated around some logs one of our Servants had placed around the campfire. Mash and Ritsuka sat on one, Marie and Jeanne on another. Mordred was sitting next to me, while Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (always wanted to say that name in its entirety) sat on the log next to the two female French Servants. Amadeus scoffed slightly, shaking his head.

“I knew it was dangerous when I learned that we had undergone Master-less summoning, but I didn’t expect this. We are currently up against five Servants. That brings up the total to eight, plus Mash and your friends. That is too much, however, is it not?”

“It appears that like so many other things, the rule of seven Servants is no more. However, I doubt that this means there could be a infinite amount of summoned Servants.”

“Nor would it be the first time more than Servants had been summoned,” Mordred added, once again out of her armor. Having seen her in what I have secretly dubbed her ‘lingerie’ several times already, it no longer has quite as dramatic effect on me, at least in terms of outwardly appearances. The idea of being so close to someone so scantily clad though, of course, caused my cheeks to burn for a brief second before I had shaken the thought away.

If Mordred had found out, she’d probably punch me.

“The one that I had been summoned in had fourteen Servants in total, two of each class, as well as Ruler over there,” she explained for the benefit of our two newest companions. Marie rubbed her chin with her fingers, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“However, we don’t have an idea of why Masters weren’t chosen. Perhaps-“ I started to say before Marie interrupted me with her usual enthusiasm.

“Oh, I get it now! I’ve figured it out, everyone! The reason we,” she gestured at Jeanne, Amadeus, and herself, “were summoned is so that we can defeat them, like the heroes we are suppose to be!” The idea caused me to pause for a moment before I started speaking again.

“Honestly, I think you’re onto something there, Marie.” The Flower of Versailles seemed to preen at my words.

“Yes, yes! I finally feel like I’ve found my job in life!” Amadeus looked bemused by his companion’s antics.

“It’s perfectly fine to be confidant, Marie. But we’re up against powerful foes. Jeanne, Mash, Mordred…even Jacob and Ritsuka it seems, are used to combat. You and I, on the other hand, are not the fighting type. The numbers matter less than the fact that they’re far stronger.” I nodded in agreement.

“Excluding Jeanne and the two of you, Ritsuka and I have a total of five Servants. Assuming that this Jeanne Alter hasn’t summoned other Servants, or that the Grail did, that would theoretically give us the advantage in terms of numbers,” I said before nodding my head slightly to the German composer. “However, with the exception of Alter, the opposing Servants all have the Madness Enhancement trait belonging primarily to the Berserker-class, buffing their strength,” I added my own observation that had the others nodding their heads reluctantly.

“Indeed, Jacob Senpai,” Mash said in her serious tone. “Vlad III and Elisabeth Báthory. One carved their name into history as both a hero and monster, while the other as a murderess.” Mash then turned to Marie with a questioning look. “The one that appeared to have been a Saber seemed to recognize you, Marie. Do you have any idea who they might be?” The Rider nodded a bit sadly.

“That’s right. If they know who I am, then I suspect they might be Chevalier d’Eon. However, I’ve no proof for now.” It was at that moment that Roman spoke up once more, as we had left the commlink active for the sake of keeping the good doctor informed.

“ _Chevalier d’Eon,”_ he began to say. _“A spy with Louis XV’s intelligence agency, the_ Secret du Roi. _They were also a Dragoon, and a plenipotentiary minister,”_ he explained for our benefit.

“It matters little, mage from a distant world,” Marie responded. “While they served before my time, their splendid visage hasn’t changed.”

 _“I see,”_ Doctor Roman said in a thoughtful tone. _“It would be wonderful if they would join us…”_ he sighed wishfully.

“That might be difficult, I think,” Jeanne interjected. “Remember, they along with the other Servants we encountered have been given the Madness Enhancement. Even if they wanted to join us, it would be extremely difficult. No doubt the ability being able to be given so freely was a result of the Dragon Witch’s control of the Holy Grail.”

“Hmph,” Marie huffed. “The goal of a Holy Grail War is the get the Grail, but they already have it. It’s not fair!” She pouted, looking a bit adorable while doing so. Jeanne gave the queen a soft and comforting pat on the back before speaking back up.

“But that leaves one mystery. Why were we summoned?” I tilted my head slightly, looking at the Ruler.

“Sounds like you have a theory. Care to share with the class?” I asked, playfully pretending to be a teacher to ensure that the mood doesn’t go down somehow. MY words managed to make her cheeks flush slightly before nodding.

“Despite the fact that the Holy Grail War hasn’t begun, someone already has a grail. Perhaps this is a reversal of causality. A bug, if you will, and perhaps the Grail is resisting it. The greater the opponent, the more powerful the Grail’s reaction.”

“Hold up for a moment,” I spoke up. “You’re speaking of the Grail as if it is alive. I thought it was simply a powerful object capable of True Magic?”

“Without going in depth and therefore sidetracking this conversation, it both is and isn’t. If you want, we could go over this when we return to Chaldea,” Mash offered. I shrugged and nodded at her.

“Alright. Sorry, Jeanne, you may continue now,” I said, gesturing at the blonde.

“Thank you. Going back to the Grail’s resistance, it is highly possible that there have been other Servants, summoned like Marie.” Those words caused Marie to stop pouting, her normal excited smile back.

“Oh, my!” She gushed. “That means I can meet even more people, _oui_?”

“If we can find them. If I had the ability to detect other Servants, it would be easier. We’ll have to rely on Doctor Roman, and perhaps any locals who survived,” Jeanne sighed.

 _“I won’t let you down,”_ Roman promised. _“While I might not match the ability of a full-powered Ruler, I can still search father than a normal Servant.”_

“Always a relief to hear good news,” I muttered before speaking louder. “Okay then. Doc, can you send me a historic map of the region?”

 _“I should be able to do so. Give me five minutes or so,”_ the ginger doctor replied. True to his words, my wrist commlink let out a quiet beep five minutes later. Pressing a button, I pulled up a holographic map of the area surrounding Orléans. Thinking ahead, Roman had also provided our location on the map. I reached over a picked up a small branch, standing up.

The others watched silently as I spent the next few minutes drawing a crude map in the dirt. “Alright, so we are here,” I said, poking the appropriate area. “We know that La Charité has been destroyed, and that we’re not ready to approach Orléans,” I tap the two locations of the respective places, drawing an _X_ over the former to signify its destruction.

“I think that we should head here, to Lyon. If it is still standing, we might find a Servant or two that Ritsuka and I could form a temporary contract, like how I did so with Jeanne,” I suggested.

“What if we encounter Jeanne Alter or one of her Servants?” Ritsuka asked.

“If we’re lucky, we might encounter them individually, if at all. If that is the case, we could reduce the enemy’s numbers,” I pointed out, earning nods and sounds of agreement. “So then, are we in agreement over this plan?”

“It’s a little less fighting for the moment, but it is a solid plan nevertheless,” Mordred answered. Of course she would be a bit focused on the idea of combat.

“Let’s take a short break now,” Marie suggested. “You’re all tired, right?” I looked up and saw that it was almost evening. At the same time my stomach betrayed me with a loud rumble. I turn my eyes skyward as I feel my cheeks grow warm. Thankfully, it’s only Mordred who snorted in amusement. Composing myself once more, I looked at the others.

“Yeah, I think Ritsuka and I need to have dinner. We can assign the shifts for guarding the camp tonight afterwards.”

* * *

The next hour or so was rather enjoyable, filled with light-hearted banter. Even Chulainn partook in it, at least for a bit. Sasaki had said that he would remain on-guard, while Medea was her usual aloof self. The food was still rather bland, but at least it was filling. We only had a few more days left of the rations from Chaldea, however. Maybe in the morning we should see if Roman could Rayshift in a few more days’ worth of rations.

After we had finished eating, Mash had insisted that Ritsuka and I start resting early, as today had been trying for the two of us both mentally and physically. Seeing no reason to disagree with the pink-haired girl, we agreed.

As I slipped into my sleeping bag, I offered a small, silent prayer for a dreamless night.

In hindsight, I should have known better…

* * *

Mordred turned her ahead away from the sleeping forms of the two Masters, content now that they were asleep. Amadeus and Chulainn had turned into their spirit form, perhaps desiring their own form of peace for the moment. At one corner of the camp, Ritsuka’s Caster was staring intently into a crystal-like ball that she had crafted after taking some time to adjust to the Leyline we were standing upon.

She didn’t feel comfortable being near the Caster. She hadn’t missed the brief glint of her eyes upon seeing her face, nor the way her lips quirked upwards in a satisfied manner. It reminded her too much of mother.

She would work alongside Medea, but she wouldn’t be friends with her, even if Jacob tried to ask it of her.

The sound of movement caused Mordred to look at a now-standing Mash. “Now that Senpai is asleep, I’m going to go on a brief patrol of the area,” the Demi-Servant said to Jeanne, Marie, and Mordred. Mordred merely grunted, still out of her armor.

“Just don’t take too long, Shieldly,” she said, using the somewhat-affectionate nickname she had given Mash. She nodded, and Fou followed her as she quietly departed into the forest. For a few minutes there was a somewhat awkward silence as a depressed expression appeared on Ruler’s face.

“Something wrong, Jeanne?” Asked Little Miss Energy, concerned. “You seem defeated…Are you tired?” While she hadn’t exactly spent much time with her fellow blonde during the Greater Grail War, and even extorted some Command Seals from her at one point, it was clear Ruler was still bothered. She blushed though as Mordred watched on from the side, her arms crossed below her chest.

“Oh, no, Marie, I’m not tired. I am a Servant, after all.” The Rider shook her head insistently, not content with dropping the matter.

“Perhaps you are saddened by the state France is in…” she murmured softly. At least she wasn’t being her normal loud self. Last thing they needed was for noise to alert who-knows-what enemies in this forest to come bearing down at this hour. “I mean, are you disappointed?” This time it was Jeanne who shook her head.

“No, I’m not disappointed. Thank you for your concern, Marie,” she replied, a soft smile on her lips for the faintest of seconds before fading. “But…seeing those familiar towns in flames is a bit hard for me to bear.”

“Yes,” Marie said sadly, nodding in understanding. “For you, especially, this era is the one you lived in. For me it feels different, memories still going on.” Suddenly, the pipsqueak straightened up. Seems like she suddenly had one of her ideas form just now. “Yes!” She said quietly. “Why don’t we take this time to talk? Girls’ night out!” That certainly caught Mordred’s attention. Ruler’s too, if the polite but confused look she had was any indicator.

“…Excuse me?” She finally said.

“Oh, is that strange? But both you and I were summoned in the bloom of our youth. You see? I’m in the middle of puberty, right? So I love talking about love and romance!” Yeah….better not ask her to join the two if they were going to deal with that matter. Ruler laughed awkwardly, blushing slightly.

“I appreciate the offer, but that’s hard for me. I know of compassion, but not romance.” The answer caused Marie to stare at Jeanne with a mixture of shock and horror.

“But…” She stammered, clearly fighting the urge to shout her words. “You’re missing out on life! It’s not too late to start! Fall in love with someone, Jeanne!” Come to think of it, didn’t she seem a bit close with that odd homunculus during the War? Mordred shrugged to herself as she continue to half-listen to the only conversation going on in the camp.

As uninteresting as it may be, it was still better than leaning against a tree and watching more trees for hours on end. The words she once said in a crypt crept back into her mind, about it being boring on her own.

“If I get the chance, I’ll give it a try,” Ruler said, still unaware of the events of the Greater Grail War. “What about you? Have you fallen in love, Marie?” She asked the queen of France, who giggled softly.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I fell in love with a boy who proposed to me at the tender age of seven. I think it was my first love. When I was fourteen, I fell in love again, this time the prince who I married.” Huh, good to know that centuries later the habit of the young ladies of royal courts being engaged at such a young age was still on-going.

“Oh my,” Ruler said in surprise. “When I was that age, I was either working or playing in the fields with the other children.”

“That sounds just as fun! Between us, I find myself a bit jealous of that. It must have been such fun to be able to go wherever you wanted!”

“Yes, it was fun,” Ruler agreed. “What I lacked in romance, I made up for in friendship.” Images of moments in the halls of Camelot caused Mordred’s hands to tighten momentarily.

“Did all the boys like you?” Rider asked, a bit hungrily. Ruler hummed in thought before answering.

“My hair was short then, so they treated me like one of the guys.” Huh. Lucky her. There was a reason why Mordred refused to dismiss Secret of Pedigree unless she was alone. She could already imagine those idiots she served alongside flipping out if they had seen that she was a woman, as much as she disliked being called such.

“What about you, Mordred?” Said Servant flinched slightly, having been surprised by the question thrown at her by Marie. She quickly recovered before glaring at the two French Servants, scowling in displeasure.

“Oh, no, I’m sure as hell not going to be dragged into your little ‘girls’ night’ thing. Talk all you want to one another, but leave me out of it,” Mordred snapped. Ruler and Rider frowned at her, though whether it was in disappointment or disproval, the knight didn’t know. Nor did she really care, to be frank.

The Rider opened her mouth, looking like she was going to try pushing her luck. Thankfully, Ruler rested a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we sit down over

Happy to have avoided that mess, Mordred leaned back against a tree, closing her eyes to give the appearance of sleeping while she stood guard for Jacob and Ritsuka. For the next hour or two, the only sounds the former Saber of Red heard were soft snoring, the occasional local night wildlife, and the dull mutters of the two French Servants having their girls’ night.

The sound of quiet grunting has her opening her eyes suddenly, looking over at the only non-Servants of the group. She saw her Master twitching and moving slightly in his sleep, his face screwed up in discomfort.

“Master…?”

* * *

_When I opened my eyes, it was to see a familiar blonde girl standing a bit shakily. She looked a year or two older compared to the last two fragments that had troubled me. Her messy hair, tied backwards in a sloppy ponytail, was drenched in sweat. I took a moment to look around._

_It looked like a small fighting pit, the sand covered with broken, bleached bones and rust-covered weapons. Mordred fell onto one knee, leaning against her sword, the tip buried into the ground as she breathed heavily. The sword was a simple one, meaning the future Knight of Rebellion had not yet received Clarent, nor her armor that she wore so often. Her clothes had been fitted to cope with her slight increase of stature due to aging. It was dirty and torn slightly, however. Who or what had she been fighting?_

_“Again.” The voice that I was starting to loath came from behind me. I felt myself snarl as I looked up at the veiled visage of Morgan le Fay. She sat on an elevated platform, looking down at her child. She waved her hand, and several dozen skeletons armed with various Medieval weapons formed around Mordred. “When you finally confront your enemy, you must be prepared to fight even if you are exhausted and outnumbered. Today, you will fight on until you cannot stand. How much pain you will feel will be up to you, but either you will not rest.”_

_With those words, the skeletons rushed the exhausted Pendragon. She managed to raise her sword to deliver a clumsy counter with the flat of her sword, but apparently having already been fighting for at least several hours already, was unable to react quickly enough to a club being swung at her exposed and unarmored back. I see her grit her teeth, refusing to cry out in pain, and punches the attacker with her bare knuckles, drawing blood while she swung her sword._

_Despite her best efforts, however, numerous blows began breaking through her defenses, and she fell down to her knee again, refusing to cry out despite the pain being inflicted upon her._

_The worst part about these dreams? You can neither look away or close your eyes, nor intervene. It was almost a miracle for me when I felt myself begin to wake up…_

* * *

Once more I jolt upright from the ground, shoulders heaving as I pant softly. My forehead felt slightly damp, from sweat perhaps. I grit my teeth, trying to force the images I had just saw out of my head.

“Damn it,” I muttered as I took a deep breath. I forced my body to stop shaking as I tried to calm down as best I can. I highly doubt that I can fall asleep anytime soon now, especially after what I had just dreamed. Was this really what my Servant’s childhood was like for her?

“Another bad dream?” The voice sounded faintly bemused, lacking the exhaustion and pain that I had just heard it in. I didn’t immediately reply to my Servant, causing her to walk closer, as I see her boots in front of me.

“Master…” she growled warningly. Not wanting to test my Servant’s patience, I finally looked up.

“Yeah, a bad dream…” I didn’t miss how Mordred seemed to be staring into my eyes, her brow furrowed while I hesitated, trying to decide on how to phrase the question I could no longer ignore.

“Mordred…I was wondering, since you never spoke about it, what was it-“ Before I could try asking Mordred about her childhood in an effort to better understand what I had been seeing, however, the peaceful silence of the camp was shattered by the sounds of steel slamming against steel. Mordred cursed as her armor encased her body once more, Clarent held in her hands. I jam my cap onto my head and stand up, grabbing the sheathed sword next to me.

“Sounds like Sasaki may have found someone,” I muttered. Ritsuka jolted upright, blinking wearily at the unexpected interruption. Next to us, Chulainn and Amadeus appeared from Spirit Form. “Rits, stay here until Mash gets back. Mordred, let’s go,” I barked, taking charge once more. Thankfully, my fellow Master didn’t protest the idea of being left behind. I could see Marie and Jeanne, both closer to the edge of the camp, in particular the one that was closest to the sounds of combat, and waved at them to follow us.

In a few minutes, we arrive to see my Assassin Servant blocking the swing of a cross-topped staff with the flat of his _nodachi_. My eyes narrowed at the sight of purple hair, quickly recognizing her as one of Alter’s Servants from the showdown at La Charité.

Apparently she sensed our arrival, for she leapt backwards and turned towards us, delivering a half-curtsey. “Hello there,” she said, rather kindly. I looked at Mordred.

“Well, you kinda did say you were hoping for a fight,” I joked, and she rolled her eyes at me. Maybe after we defeat this Servant, I will ask her my question. Not if, but when we defeat. They might have an advantage at the moment, but it looks like it is time to start chipping it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was mainly to transition into the fight with Saint Martha next chapter, as well as also to experiment some more with writing from Mordred's perspective. Not much really to say other than the normal and also the daily question(s)
> 
> Also, did I just Kenobi/Grievous myself?
> 
> First question: If you could snap your fingers and summon any Servant from the game in real-life, who would you pick?
> 
> Second question: How did you first find out about the Fate series? For me, I found out one day on Netflix after trying Sword Art Online, and saw the title 'Fate/Apocrypha;' and soon met my most favorite Servant and anime character of all time, Mordred! :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. What did you guys think?


	14. Saint Martha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company face off against the Berserker Rider Servant Saint Martha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say really until after y'all finish reading, so enjoy!

“Nice night for a stroll in the woods, don’t you think?” I asked the female Servant, who tilted her head slightly at me. Next to me, I can feel the three women and single man staring at me in their own confusion. I was trying to banter with the intruder to buy time for the others to join us properly, as well as try to develop a plan.

While a lot of problems this singularity have been solved by simply throwing Mordred and the other Servants at the problem, I don’t want to risk one of them getting injured, nor do I want to lose the chance to reduce the enemy’s ranks.

The Servant nodded with a serene smile tinged with sadness. “It is, but also a lonely night,” she sighed. Jeanne kept her flagpole leveled at her, eyes hardened and ready for combat.

“Who are you?” She asked, causing a puzzled expression on our foe.

“Who?” She echoed. “Let’s see, I wonder who I am. I forced myself to be a righteous saint, but in this world I’m a slave to a broken one.”

“DO you mean the Dragon Witch?” I asked, being given a nod as a response.

“Yes. Thanks to her, my reason has left, replaced with madness,” she replied, lowering her head apologetically. “I am doing everything I can to hold myself back. What a mess this is,” she sighed.

“So, there’s no chance for you to join us and stop the Dragon Witch, then?” Jeanne asked.

“While I appreciate the offer, and your hopes, I regretfully cannot do so. After all, you don’t want a Servant who’ll stab you from behind at the first opportunity, do you?” I sense Mordred stiffen, perhaps feeling insulted. Whether our foe meant to or not, I cannot tell. I nudge her gently with my elbow, and she slips back into her fighting stance.

“Then why did you come here?” Jeanne asked, having not noticed my little exchange with the Saber.

“My task was to observe you, but my waning reason whispers that I should test you.” Test us? Is she being serious about how she is viewing the inevitable fight we are simply prolonging at this point?!? “You face the Dragon Witch. Disaster Incarnate, riding on the ‘ultimate’ dragon’. If you cannot surpass me, you will never defeat her or her minions.” By this point the female Servant was tightly gripping her weapon, gritting her teeth as traces of bloodlust start to show.

“Defeat me. Plunge your blade into my heart without hesitation or pity! My True Name is Martha, a member of the Rider-class! Now come to me, Iron Dragon Tarasque!” A bright light fills the forest, forcing me to raise a hand over my eyes as I closed them. I feel someone pushing me backwards.

“ _Martha…Saint Martha? Oh no…”_ Doctor Roman said, concern leaking out of his voice as the light behind her began to fade. _“Watch out everyone! Saint Martha once defeated a dragon with nothing but prayers! If she really is a Servant who is about to fight you, that means she’s a dragon rider!”_ The words of both the Servant and Doctor Roman connected as one of the many tales of dragons that my mom had read to me before bedtime.

Opening my eyes, I see that Sasaki, Mordred, and Jeanne were forming a line. Standing next to me was Marie, a grim expression on her face as a roar filled the clearing. Standing behind the Berserker Rider was a monstrosity.

The full moon that shone its light allowed me to see its full features. It stood on six short, bear-like legs that supported an oxen-like body. A scaly tale swished aggressively through the air behind it, the appendage ending with a barbed sting like one would find on a scorpion. Protecting its back was a domed-shape shell that looked similar to one that you would find protecting a turtle, though the spikes jutting out was new.

The most horrifying aspect to me, though, was its face. It was shaped vaguely like a human, but with the features of a lion. It snarled at us, faint clouds of smoke billowing from its flared nostrils, hinting at the possibility of it being a fire-breather. It’s smoldering black eyes were narrowed as it roared again, forcing me to cover my ears.

Reborn once more was the Tarasque. A true dragon, unlike the horde of wyverns that we had encountered. A flicker of terror was ignited at the sight of it. “Hey, Jeanne,” I said, licking suddenly dry lips, “Is there any chance you could say a prayer or something to tame that dragon?” I asked, a bit hysterical. In my defense, though, it’s a _dragon_! Jeanne didn’t respond, undoubtedly recognizing that I was trying to make a joke and not succumb to fear.

“Jacob Senpai!” I turned around to see Mash, Ritsuka, and the rest of the Servants coming towards us. Upon seeing the dragon, Mash and her Master briefly fumbled upon seeing the dragon, before Chulainn nudged them from behind. Chulainn and Mash joined the line, while Medea and Amadeus followed Ritsuka as he stood beside me.

“Hell of a way to wake up,” I muttered to a nervous Ritsuka, who grunted in agreement.

“Got a plan?” I hesitated for a brief second before nodding.

“Yeah. Have Mash and Chulainn focus on either distracting or better yet, defeating her dragon. I’ll have Sasaki help you out. Jeanne and Mordred will engage the Servant. You ok with that?” I said quietly.

“Good luck,” Ritsuka said, and I nodded in response. “Mash! Chulainn! Focus on the dragon!”

“Orders understood, Senpai!”

“You got it!”

I turned to my three Servants before me. “Sasaki, support Mash and Chulainn.” The Assassin neither spoke nor looked back, bowing his head slightly as a sign of acknowledgement before shifting his posture towards the now-advancing Tarasque. “Mordred, Jeanne. Work together and take down that Rider!”

“You got it!” Mordred said a bit savagely, raising Clarent over her head in preparation for her first attack.

“Understood,” Jeanne said in a calmer tone, though no less ready to fight.

A nod from Martha was the last thing I saw before everyone sprang into action in the blink of an eye. The Tarasque howled as it charged forward, as did Mordred. Mash slammed her shield into the ground, glyphs glowing in the air before it as the dragon bore down on her. Flashes of blue, red, purple, and metal as Sasaki, Chulainn, and Jeanne began their own attacks. Medea flung out her arm and a purple shield of energy was raised just in time to divert a stream of burning fire that had been aimed at Ritsuka and I.

Overwhelmed by the various sights in the first few seconds of combat, I shook my head as I silently reprimand myself. _‘Focus, Jacob. Ritsuka has the dragon, you have the suped-up Servant to focus on,’_ I thought.

Looking back at the fight between Servants, I wince as I see the butt of Martha’s staff connect solidly to Mordred’s midriff, sending her sprawling backwards. The Knight of Rebellion recovered quickly, however, getting back to her feet, no doubt growling in frustration. Martha flicked her staff, deflecting Mordred’s swing of Clarent before jumping back slightly, avoiding being impaled by Jeanne’s flagstaff.

The Ruler’s eyes widened when the Berserker Rider grabbed the shaft of the flagpole and yanked on it, throwing Jeanne off-balance. She released a low grunt as Martha dragged her into an extended elbow, causing her to bend over, winded from the impact. Before Martha could deliver another blow, however, Mordred threw herself back into the fray, slamming an armored gauntlet into her mouth.

Martha’s head snapped to the side, a light spray of blood flying out as she stumbled backward. However, she waved her staff a bit wildly, preventing Mordred from delivering a successful follow-up attack.

I bit my lip nervously while watching. The way the battle was going, at least on my end, was completely different from La Charité. At the time, I had dismissed Jeanne Alter’s words to Vlad about holding back as merely venting over an unexpected defeat. Now I was reconsidering those words as I watched Mordred and Jeanne struggling against Martha.

A lucky shot from Martha saw her staff slam into the side of Mordred’s torso, disrupting the Saber’s guard. Before she could recover, the Berserker Rider struck out again, taking full advantage of the gap. I winced at the dull _clang_ of Martha’s silvery cross slamming into Mordred’s helmet. The Saber stumbled backwards, disoriented from the concussive force of the blow no doubt, and didn’t notice the round house kick that sent her sprawling onto the floor, Clarent slipping out of her grasp.

“Mordred!” Jeanne and I both shouted, as the former rushed in to give her fellow blonde a chance to recover, delivering a rapid set of jabs and thrusts that didn’t cause her to over-extend her guard or give her opponent another chance to grab the weapon after a missed strike. Eventually, one manages to get through, ripping the sleeve open on the right side and delivering what looked like a long, shallow cut to Martha’s right arm.

I opened my mouth to cheer when the Berserker Rider merely snarled and headbutted a surprise Jeanne once, twice, three times in rapid succession. I wince at hearing the sound of bone breaking, the cause being Jeanne’s nose. The now-injured Ruler gasped in pain and shock, before Martha slapped her in the face with the flat of the cross, dazing my temporary Servant as blood leaked down her right cheek from the blow as well as from her broken nose.

Martha raised her weapon over her head like a club, madness dancing cruelly in eyes that only minutes ago had been peaceful. “Jeanne!” I cried, starting to move forward before one of the Casters or Marie, I did not know who, grabbed my shoulder. I fight to break free, unwilling to let another comrade die before my eyes, unwilling to let another Director Animusphere down, when an armored hand grabs the cross from behind.

Mordred’s helmet was retracted, her green eyes burning in fury. “That’s enough you bitch,” I heard her snarl, lips curled back in anger.

Still in the grips of madness, the Berserker Rider tried to yank her weapon out Mordred’s hand. Too close to swing or even thrust properly with her sword, Mordred instead slams the pommel of Clarent into Martha’s gut, bending the saint over for once. A follow-up knee strike sent her flying through the air, minus her weapon.

Flipping through the air, Martha landed on her feet as Mordred tossed the staff she held over her back. “You managed to get in some good blows, I’ll admit that,” Mordred growled dangerously, eyes locked onto the enemy Servant. “But I’m finishing this here and now. I’ve come too far to be beaten this early!” As she shouted those words, red lightning crackled off of her body.

“MANA BURST!” The Knight of Rebellion said as she activated the ability, increasing her speed and strength before launching herself forward once more. A cruel grin unbefitting of a saint was all Martha replied with before darting forward, becoming a blur of motion.

Then, there is a sickening sound, and the two reappeared. Mordred’s shoulders moved up and down as she looked into the eyes of Saint Martha, whom she had just impaled with Clarent. The Berserker Rider tried to move forward, but it did no good. Then I noticed the mad glint in her eyes being replaced with calm and pain.

Mordred did it. She had defeated the first of the Berserker Servants we would face. Unlike the other times that she had won the fight, though, there was no clear expression of victory on her features, but one of grudging respect.

At that moment, a howl filled with anger and pain caused me to look away. The large form of Martha’s dragon began to fade away in the golden dust that the Berserker Rider herself began to. A battered Chulainn pulls his cursed spear out of the breast of the monster, red eyes warily watching the dying creature.

“…I see,” Martha coughed up blood, some of it drippling down the corner of her mouth. “That’s enough,” she said with great effort. Jeanne looks at her fellow saint with a pained expression.

“Martha,” the Ruler began to speak, her voice nasally from the broken nose that thankfully had stopped bleeding. “Did you-“

“Hold back?” Martha laughed, grimacing as she finished the Ruler’s question. “Of course not. This is fine.” You call getting impaled by a sword fine?!? “It’s better this way, that I didn’t kill any of you. Trust me, don’t make a saint massacre you!” No one laughed at the weak joke. By this point, the lower half of the dying Servant had faded out of existence. She didn’t have much time left, and she knew it. “Listen, let me tell you a thing or two.” She said, a serious expression once more present.

“Is it about that ‘ultimate dragon’ you mentioned earlier?” I asked, receiving a nod. Ritsuka and Mash were now standing by us.

“Yes. As you stand now, none of you will be able to defeat the dragon controlled by the Dragon Witch. Fortunately, there is a way to surpass that type of dragon. Lyon…go to the city once known as Lyon. There, you will find a dragon slayer capable of killing it.” I nodded my head in thanks, but the purple-haired Servant was no longer looking at us, her gaze instead focused on her companion. The creature was only a shrinking head looking at its master with a sorrowful expression. “Tarasque, forgive me,” she whispered as the dragon finished dissolving, herself also almost completely gone. “Next time…I hope I’ll be summoned…properly…”

Her voice faded away with her body, leaving behind a wrecked clearing in a moonlight forest. For a long moment no one said anything, exhausted from either the strain and stress (in the case of Ritsuka and I) or injuries. Finally, Jeanne d’Arc broke the silence.

“Even Saint Martha can’t resist her,” she said, sounding in pain. I had a feeling the pain wasn’t from a broken nose or any other injury she may have sustained during the fight. Before I could try to say something comforting, however, Mash beats me to it.

“She’d undergone Madness Enhancement, in addition to being summoned,” she reminded the forlorn-looking saint. “Perhaps it can’t be helped. Normally, it should have been impossible to even talk to her. The only reason we managed to do so was because of her incredible self-control.”

“ _Oui_. She was a peaceful, yet fierce, person in life,” Marie chimed in, walking over and resting a delicate hand comfortingly on Jeanne’s right shoulder. “She is the Iron Saint. She is a woman like adamantine, who solved problems with her fists to the end.” The words seemed to comfort her fellow countrywoman. It seems that the two of them had grown rather close as friends while I was asleep.

“They say she defeated the Tarasque with a sermon, but I bet she just beat it up,” Amadeus mused absentmindedly. I tried laughing but only managed to make an awkward chuffing sound. I shake my head and clear my throat.

“Well, we have our next destination then. Question is, do we wait for daybreak to break camp or head out now?” The composer was the first to respond, rather enthusiastically as well.

“Thanks to the actions of Saint Martha, we know where we’re going. I say we should hurry and get to Lyon before we miss the chance to meet our dragon slayer!”

Behind me, I could hear Mash whispering quietly to Marie, sounding both surprised and confused by the jovial expression on Amadeus’s face. “I’m surprised. Amadeus seemed like, um, the type of person who’d hate to travel on foot,” she confessed, causing the Rider to giggle slightly before answering.

“Oh no, Amadeus loves traveling,” Marie replied. “He’s travelled to many places ever since he was a child.” Before we could be further distracted, however, I cleared my throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Amadeus, while I am delighted to see your enthusiasm, I wish to remind you that this battle was not without injuries. Ritsuka, can you check on the injuries sustained by your Servants as well as Sasaki, while I do the same with mine?” As soon as I heard his confirmation of agreement, I walked briskly over to Jeanne and Mordred.

“How bad is you nose, Jeanne?” I asked hurriedly to the injured Ruler. Jeanne winced slightly as she gingerly touched it. I know that Servants have better endurance than humans, but that doesn’t mean they can’t feel pain from injuries of any kind.

“It’s broken, but it seems that the blood has clotted. I think a short rest would allow for it to heal properly, though I can still fight if we decide to not wait. I nodded, chewing on the inside of my right cheek softly before shifting my gaze towards the shorter of the two blondes.

“What about you, Mordred?” The knight grimaced at my question, before turning to the side and spitting out a glob of blood.

“I think that saint broke a few ribs. It hurts like a bitch, but I should be fine in a few hours,” she grunts. I try not wince at those words as the image of my Servant and friend being surrounded and beaten by a cluster of skeletons came unwanted to my memory. Nearby, I could hear Ritsuka asking similar questions.

In addition to the injuries sustained by Jeanne and Mordred, Mash had been burned slightly on her right side, Chulainn had a fracture wrist from a mistimed spear thrust that bounced off of the shell of the Tarasque, and Sasaki a sprained ankle from a hidden tree root. While no one had been critically injured, it would still take a few hours for the minor injuries to heal if we wanted our main hitting force to operate at maximum efficiency. Considering the fight we just endured, and that there were at least four other enhanced Servants still on the prowl, it seemed like a stupid risk. On the other hand, though, there was still the fact that Amadeus had pointed out of the risk of this mysterious dragon slayer either moving to a different area of France, or worse, cut down by Jeanne Alter and her cronies.

“Well, I think it is a good thing then that I have an idea to fix everyone up,” Marie said cheerfully, causing everyone, even Amadeus, to look at her with questioning looks. “While my Noble Phantasm is mainly an Anti-Army type, it does have a very useful side effect. If I allow it, it heals any number of my allies, restoring mana and removing any burns, curses, or toxins.”

“Well, that is a relief. If you think it is a good idea, Marie, then go for it,” Ritsuka said with a clearly relieved smile. I nodded in agreement. After all, this would remove the only argument that I had to support the idea of waiting a few hours before moving, even though Ritsuka and I would get little if any more sleep.

“Wishing to blossom, visibly in the open! Dancing, to blossom in full glory! Passing through, Guillotine breaker!” A bright light surrounded us, and I felt a soft, warm, tingling sensation in my body. I felt re-energized.

When it fades away, I blink my eyes several times to re-adjust to the darkness of the night. Once I had done so, my jaw drops slightly. While dried blood still clung to Jeanne’s nose and upper lip, her nose had been restored to its proper shape. The cut that had accompanied the injury had healed, leaving not even a scar.

I turned to Mordred, out of her armor once more, who was gingerly pressing a hand to her bare side, an eyebrow raised before she looked at the Rider with an impressed expression. I released a soft chuckle, shaking my head in relief as I saw that Marie’s plan had worked out.

“Wow, that was amazing Marie!” Ritsuka said excitedly, drawing a pleased expression from the French queen.

“I might not be the best front-line fighter of the group, but I can still help in both taking down enemies and healing. Just try to not require me to use it after every battle. Guillotine Breaker can be a bit of a mana drain for me.” Ritsuka and I nodded in understanding before looking at one another with determined expressions on our faces.

With our party back in top fighting condition, and the advice of a defeated adversary to guide our next move, we were one large step closer to storming Orléans, defeating the Dragon Witch, and securing the Holy Grail.

“Well, let’s pack up our camp and start to move. If I am judging the position of the moon correctly, dawn is only a few hours away. Let’s get as much distance from here as possible before more enemies arrive.” Receiving signs of agreement, I adopted a confidant expression, resting my hands on my hips. “Next stop, Lyon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! In this fight scene, my train of thought was that it would be harder for our heroes because unlike with Berserker Lancer and Berserker Assassin, Martha declared her intention to go all out. I also kinda imagined her fighting style to be a combination of both her Rider and Ruler forms. Also, I thought that to balance things out, that she would summon her mount, the Tarasque, and have it fight, even though that isn't quite the case in-game. Thoughts on the idea? Also, let me know what you thought of what you think of this fight.
> 
> Another thing of note: I actually have another story that I am planning out based on a dream that I had. Unlike the Will to Fight, it will be an AU crime/mystery/drama in a college setting with Master Candidates and Servants. I might end up not putting it out, and even when/if I do, it won't take over priority for this story. I'll probably talk mroe about it in another A/N in a future chapter, but I wanted to test the waters with the basic ideas.
> 
> Now, for the fun part of every chapter ending, the questions! Question number one: Of the Berserker Servants in the First Singularity (Berserker Lancer, Berserker Saber...ectara), which one(s) were your favorite?
> 
> Question 2: This is more because I like to know, but what drew you into this story?
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoyed, and see you next chapter!


	15. Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and friends stop at a nearby town to find out information, some hilarity ensue before they head to Lyon, and Jeanne Alter makes plans of her own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was re-watching the cutscenes of the First Singularity, and I totally forgot about one of the events that happens this chapter. Hope you enjoy, and catch you below

Inside the devastated remains of the settlement of Orléans, countless wyverns and undead milled about the charred fields. Aside from quiet roars or clacking of bones, not a single sound could be heard.

Then came a shrill cry of anger, followed by the dying squawk of a wyvern that had all who serve the Dragon Witch pause and look back at the castle.

“Rider committed suicide,” Jeanne seethed, pulling out the tip of her flagstaff from a hapless wyvern that had ‘volunteered’ to serve as a source of stress relief. The fallen Ruler began to pace back and forth around the room, her brow furrowed. “It’s troublesome that she managed to somehow retain her sanity even with Madness Enhancement. Still, she likely fought with all of her might. If that is the case, we can’t let our guard down. Next time, I will take to the field with our new ‘friend’. I will also be taking the Servants we summoned tonight once morning comes. Contact Berserker Assassin,” Jeanne Alter said, looking at the other occupant in the room, and quite possibly the only one in the world safe from her wrath.

“Of course,” Gilles de Rais said soothingly, a tone that she still found somewhat ridiculous considering that his eyes were always busy staring _in different directions!_ Seriously, what the hell? Gilles continued speaking, unaware of Jeanne Alter’s personal thoughts. “If I were who I was before, I would’ve stopped you,” he admitted, sounding perhaps troubled for the briefest of moments before he smiled excitedly. “But now you’re perfect, Jeanne! You don’t even need luck! Please, trample over them as much as you wish!” He urged cruelly, closing his eyes with a content smile at his face. She couldn’t help but smile at her ever-faithful comrade and his words of encouragement. Even after being betrayed by the ones she had sacrificed everything for, he had stood by her side.

Jeanne Alter frowned though. The brief thoughts of the past caused a re-surfacing of a question that had been troubling her ever since the showdown at La Charité, when she encountered that blond lookalike who claimed to also be Jeanne d’Arc. “Gilles,” she finally said, causing the Caster to open his eyes and stare (at least, as best he could all things considered) at her. “Which do you think is the real one? Me, or her?” Her companion answered without hesitation.

“Of course it’s you. Haven’t you been listening, Jeanne?” Gilles responded with an almost chiding tone. “You were burned at the stake. Betrayed, by everyone! Charles left you to die, merely to avoid paying the ransom! Not a single person rose to bravely fight for your return! And what was the cause of all this?” He roared, throwing his hands up into the air. Jeanne watched as he spat at the ground. “It was God! It was our God, _mocking_ us! Thus, we deny God. Don’t we, Jeanne?”

The fallen Ruler mulled his words over, before shaking her head. Yes, she had been betrayed. Murdered. “Yes,” she finally decided. “Yes, you’re correct, Gilles. I have nothing left. My soldiers are gone, and my admirers fled. The king betrayed me and the bishop burnt me in the name of God. I have nothing left but hate,” she admitted, before narrowing her eyes, staring at the mural of the Resurrection that she had ordered brought up from the chapel. Her lips curling up in a snarl, she slammed the butt of her flagstaff at the center, destroying it.

“I was wrong. No, everything was wrong. Not just what I believed in. The very country that allowed me to exist was wrong. This mistake must be righted. Jeanne d’Arc was a mistake. So let us do as they decided, and make it all so it never happened.” She flicked her hand at the ruined mural dismissively, causing a fire to roar into existence as it devastated the remains. She stared intently at the hungry flames, all too similar to the ones that had her skin and charred her bones. “My salvation was itself a fatal mistake.”

“Jeanne,” Gilles said sadly, causing her to look away and face a concerned Caster. “Please, don’t put yourself under such stress. This is a divine punishment. Nothing more. Your revenge is righteous. What you saved, you may destroy. Isn’t that all there is to it?” He asked. Jeanne Alter nodded.

“What you say may be extreme, but it still brings me strength,” she grunted in agreement. She was done with this conversation anyways. There was much to do, after all, and she found herself interested in confronting that Master who had stood up to her in the remains of the town. She wondered if he would beg for mercy as fire consumed his body after she defeated the Servants accompanying him. Or would he merely stare defiantly, or even hatred?

“Berserker, Assassin, mount your wyverns and follow me,” she finally said, shaking her head slightly as she noticed the light beginning to creep through the windows of the room. A loud, booming roar shook the foundations of Orléans as Jeanne Alter’s newest and most deadly weapon awoke from its slumber.

It was time to go hunting

* * *

Powered by the application of Marie’s Noble Phantasm, we had made great progress in the dying hours of the night as we traveled south. The journey had been silent, with only a few ten to fifteen-minute-long pauses to allow for Ritsuka and I to catch our breaths. I was able to enjoy a rather stunning, if ominous, sunrise. The inkiness of night was splattered with blood-red light.

Even as I admired it, I instinctively shuddered. Old rhymes warning about the dangers of a red sunrise played softly in my mind. A week ago, if someone were to ask me if I believed in superstitions, I would have scoffed (politely) and dismiss the idea. However, the things I had witness, both miraculous and heinous, had shaken that dismissiveness.

Danger was ahead.

Mordred must have noticed how long I had been staring at the red sky now fading into an orange as the sun continued climbing, for she nudges me slightly. “Not getting cold feet or something, are we?” She teased, though I thought that I could make out a glint of concern in her eyes. I forced myself to smile.

“Not on my life,” I replied as ahead of us, the vanguard of Servants paused, bringing the rest of us to a halt. Marie walked over to Ritsuka and I, her typical smile beaming at us.

“Ritsuka, Jacob, we’ve found a town up ahead. I was thinking of going down and seeing what news I can find out from Lyon, if that is alright?” She asked, staring at Ritsuka. As Jeanne had become my temporary Servant for this Singularity, Marie (and by extension, Amadeus) was Ritsuka’s. Confidant enough to not seek my approval, a small mercy if I might add, my fellow Master nodded.

“Alright, just be careful,” he said for good measure as Marie clapped her hands excitedly.

“ _Oui_ , it shouldn’t take long. An hour or three at most. Enjoy your little break,” she said, waving at us in an adorable manner before skipping down the hill overlooking the town. I shake my head in awe and amusement.

“You know,” I said idly to my fellow Master as we sat down, while Mash rummaged through our supply sack to dig out another flavorless breakfast. “If we somehow hooked Marie up to a generator or a battery, would she be able to solve the world’s energy crisis?” My joke elicited a round of hearty laughter not only from Ritsuka, but also Mash, Mordred, Jeanne, and even Amadeus.

* * *

“Welcome back,” I grunted, pushing myself up onto my feet. Marie was skipping towards us, a smile on her face. Considering how long she was gone, that probably means she has something good to share, or at least important.

“I got the information!” Marie said in her usual, cheerful tone. Jeanne gave a smile of relief, no doubt feeling bad about not being able to help her fellow countrywoman in asking about Lyon in town. Sure enough, what she says next confirmed my theory.

“That’s great. I’m sorry again about not being able to help,” Jeanne said to her newfound friend with a forlorn look, turquoise eyes staring down at the still-intact town. “I will cause a panic if I had gone into town, or any other towns undoubtedly.” Marie was about to comment when I gave a light, playful shove to Jeanne’s shoulder.

“Oi, Jeanne, relax. It’s ok,” I said, shaking my head good-naturedly as Marie tittered merrily into the palm of her hand. Jeanne blushed but nodded. I had taken a personal interest in trying to not let the Ruler always be a downer on herself over a situation she cannot help. “So, Marie, what were you saying?”

“I have good news, and bad news,” the Rider reported to Ritsuka and I. “The bad news is that the city Saint Martha had told us about, Lyon, has been completely destroyed recently, and the survivors have settled here.” I released a soft hiss of disappointment. I had hoped that perhaps the way that the Berserker Rider had referred to the city wasn’t an indicator of its current state. Jeanne sighed, and this time I don’t bother trying to shift the mood.

“The ‘once known as’ nuanced had interested me,” the saint confessed, looking solemnly at Marie. “So it’s just as I feared?” Marie’s smile slipped from her face as she nodded somberly.

“ _Oui_. The city is filled with monsters that seem to have risen from the depths of hell. However, it’s what came before that is the good news. The refugees told me about how Lyon had a protector?”

“A protector?” Mash repeated, curiosity peaked. Marie nodded, a smaller smile back on her face.

“A knight with a large sword, who defeated wyverns and skeletons.”

“I see,” Jeanne said, rubbing at her chin with a thoughtful expression. Perhaps that’s the Servant Martha spoke of.”

“Quite possibly. However, just before the city was abandoned, some people came who the locals had found to be rather scary. Servants, probably, though who they might be, I couldn’t find out. Their protector was overwhelmed by their numbers, however, and is now missing.”

“And once he fell, so too did Lyon,” I finished grimly.

“I hope he is still alive,” Mash spoke up. “If not…no, let’s believe in the words of Saint Martha.”

“Oh! Another thing I found out! An important French nobleman had visited the city last night, gathering routed soldiers. They said his name was Gilles de Rais,” Marie added, startling Jeanne.

“Gilles!” She said in a mixture of shock and relief, and perhaps a hint of bitterness over being unable to visit him. If memory served me right, Gilles de Rais was a close follower of Jeanne d’Arc during the battles she fought in, and her death had afflicted much grief and pain that shattered his sanity.

“He’s attempting to attack Lyon and re-take the city,” Marie continued explaining. I breathed deeply before taking a long time exhaling through my nose.

“Well, this complicates things,” I stated bluntly. Marie tilted her head, confused.

“Why is that? Gilles de Rais is an admirer of Jeanne, right? If Jeanne asks, surely he would lend a helping hand?” Jeanne sighed again.

“That’s precisely the reason why,” the saint in question responded despondently. “He knows that I’ve become the Dragon Witch. He wouldn’t accept me like that.”

“And even if that wasn’t the case, what good would it be to send mere soldiers and knights against these apparent monsters?” Ritsuka chimed in. I grimace as I imagine the aftermath of such an effort. Even a victory would be little better than a defeat in regards to the cost of life. Marie looked particularly bothered by that idea, no doubt partly due to the fact that in several centuries from now, she would be ruling over these lands and the people who lived there.

“Yes, I don’t think normal soldiers can handle all those monsters in Lyon,” she agreed. Mordred snorts, resting the blade of Clarent against her shoulder guard.

“Bah, I say we go over there and kick some monster ass,” she said in her brash tone, a cocky expression gracing her features.

“Yeah, we can do this!” Ritsuka said rather excitedly, pumping a fist into the air. Marie almost swooned, clasping two hands against her cheek as she gazed at the Japanese Magus.

“Yes, that’s what it means to be a boy! Here’s your reward~” The Rider said with a giggle before planting a chaste kiss on Ritsuka’s right cheek. Mash’s eyes widened, as did my own, as the Demi-Servant stammered at the action.

“W-what?” Mash asked, her cheeks flushed with color as her purple eyes darted between the innocently-smiling Rider and my fellow Master as the former took a few steps backward. I throttled the snigger that was building in my throat as I examined my friend.

If Mash’s cheeks were colored, Ritsuka’s could only be described as burning. His blue eyes stared blankly at the giggling Rider. His mouth hung half-open. Oh, my. I do believe that, if I am reading this correctly, Ritsuka just had his first kiss. If this was his reaction to chaste one to the cheek, I wonder what it would have been if it had been a passionate one on the lips? Possibly passing out?

“Well? Was it good?” Marie asked, perhaps a bit shyly. To my undying amusement, Ritsuka merely stared at Marie with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air as he tried to speak.

“Master, hang in there,” Mash urged, before whispering in mild frustration. “Jeez!” A deep, throaty laugh caused me to look over my shoulder at a beaming Amadeus who was shaking his head in mock despair at his companion’s actions.

“She finally went and did it, huh?” The composer sighed good-naturedly. “Sorry, just ignore that, Ritsuka. Marie has a bad habit of kissing everything. It caused chaos in the palace. There were actually factions formed of people she’d kissed and people she hadn’t,” Amadeus explained to us, or rather, everyone but Ritsuka, who was still in a daze.

“Master, come on.” Mash was almost whining now, trying to figure out what she should do. “Snap out of it. Snap out of it!” She said, finally deciding on shaking her Master. Meanwhile, Marie just watched the show with a confused expression.

“Huh? You guys don’t do kisses?” She asked, in a surprisingly naive tone. “Maybe like when your heart feels like someone’s squeezing it…you do it too, right Jeanne?” She asked the Ruler. Once again the blonde’s face turned a bright pink, stammering out her reply.

“I-I do not! I do not!” She protested. Behind me, Mordred faked a cough, saying something under her breath that sounded like bullshit. I looked over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow at my Servant. Mordred merely shrugged.

“I’ll tell you when we finish this mess,” Mordred said quietly, and I nodded before looking back at the peanut gallery.

“Okay, everyone, please stop talking,” I said in a polite but firm tone, and thankfully, the three Servants and Demi-Servant I was referring to fell silent. “Thank you. Now, as fascinating as what appears to have been Ritsuka’s first kiss is, I think this isn’t the time to discuss hormones,” I said bluntly, causing both of the French Servants to blush in embarrassment. I glance at Ritsuka and sigh, walking over and gently pushing Mash out of the way.

“Let me try,” I said calmly, a nod being my answer before I looked my fellow Master in the eye. “Sorry about this,” I said before I slapped his right cheek. Everyone flinched at the sudden sound of my palm making contact with his left cheek, and Ritsuka stumbled backwards, shaking his head as he pressed his hands against the red mark now forming.

“Ow! Was that really necessary?” He asked as he rubbed his cheek. I take off my cap and run a hand through my messy hair as I shrugged.

“It was the best thing I could do to snap you out of your Snow White impression,” I admitted bluntly. “At least it worked.” Ritsuka stared flatly at me, unamused. Thankfully though, it appeared that he wasn’t about to hold a grudge against me or something.

“Now that we are all back in the present, I suggest we start making our way to Lyon.” Jeanne nodded in agreement, slamming the butt of her weapon into the earth resolutely.

“Agreed. Although the thought of having to see a ruined town again is heartbreaking, we must stop the Dragon Witch.”

* * *

The next four or five hours were rather boring. Our party hadn’t encountered anyone or thing, good or bad. Aside from a few brief stops to catch our breath, and a quick lunch, we made no stops. Before we knew it, we were only a few hundred feet away from the destroyed city of Lyon. I sighed once again, something I have been doing with unpleasant frequency since we first arrived in this singularity.

The walls were scorched, and the charred remains of the garrison litter the battlements and the ground. At least this time, their deaths appeared to have not been in vain to save the citizens of the settlement. However, just like in La Charité, the air was deathly silent, filled only with the smell of smoke, fire, and death. Jeanne was the first one to speak.

“…There’s no one here,” she observed in an extremely quiet voice.” Mash activated our commlink.

“Doctor, any sign of life-“ The Demi-Servant began to say, only for static to reply. “Doctor?” Mash tried again, only to again get white noise. She looked at Ritsuka and I apologetically. “I’m sorry. Reception’s not very good here.”

“Looks like we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way,” I replied, and the Shielder nodded before speaking again.

“Let’s split up and search for this ‘Dragon Slayer’ that Martha said we should find.”

“Right,” Marie replied. “Let’s see which of us finds that person first. Amadeus and I will take the western half of the city.” I turn towards Sasaki.

“Sasaki, would you mind going along with them?” The swordsman merely bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. I turn towards my fellow Master. “Rits, take Mash, Medea, and Chulainn, and check the center of the city. Jeanne, Mordred, and I will take care of the eastern section. If anyone encounters either the Servant we are searching for, survivors, or Servants, send something into the air,” I said. No on disagrees with the suggestion, and soon we split up into our three small groups.

The three of us walked through the city in silence, passing a number of mauled bodies along the way. Even though I had expected to see nothing pleasant, nor any survivors, the sight of such wanton destruction still hurts. Mordred had a small frown on her lips, showing her displeasure. However, the one who was affected the most had to be the Maid of Orléans

“This was once a beautiful town,” Jeanne finally said, stopping before a partially collapsed house. Indeed, there appeared to have been a rather charming appearance when it was intact. I noticed how the Ruler’s gauntlets were shaking slightly as she gripped her standard. “Why would that Dragon Witch do this?”

“That’s not you, Jeanne,” I replied, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She appeared to have relaxed slightly as she exhaled. Mordred remained silent, undoubtedly preferring for me to do this and let her keep an eye out for any potential threats.

“That’s be nice but…” Jeanne paused, while I gripped the hilt of my sword. “Did I just hear a voice?” She asked, readying her weapon as Mordred’s helmet assembled itself around her face.

“I don’t think that is a survivor calling out for help,” I said, pointing my other hand skywards, preparing to fire a Gandr to signal the others. Sure enough, the half-slashed body of a local shambles into view, along with a dozen or so more. The Living Undead, once again. I fire the Gandr into the air and draw my sword.

Just peachy. I turn my head slightly as I hear someone grinding their teeth together, and am actually startled to see the trembling form of Jeanne. She wasn’t scared, however, though certainly horrified.

“Turning the townsfolk into monsters…” Jeanne seethed, angered. “This is beyond heresy!”

“I’d rather be facing those damn golems again,” Mordred commented, readying Clarent. Both Servants are ready to break the curse animating the bodies before us, and I was prepared to join them.

“Be at peace,” I murmured gently as I readied my sword, standing between Jeanne and Mordred as the monstrosities before us charged forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I laughed myself silly over that aspect of Marie and her itneractions. Hoped you all enjoyed it. This chapter was mainly a transition, and I did skip over a few fights (mainly a pointless interruption by a bunch of bandits) in order to progress with the main line of the story. Next chapter will have a fair amount of fighting, so wish me luck with typing it out.
> 
> What did y'all think about the idea of writing from Jeanne's perspective, kinda, at the start of the chapter? I haven't written, either published or in practice, Jeanne or Alter, so I am curious to see how it works, as I plan on expanding a bit on the Servant perspectives, though of course in this story the main ones are Mordred and her Master Jacob.
> 
> Not much else to really say, other than the question of the day: Which of the boss Servants in FGO that you had to deal with gave you the most rage/frustration?
> 
> Looking forward out feedback and answers, and I hope you enjoyed another chapter! Until next time!


	16. Lyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob, Mordred, and Jeanne fight off numerous attackers amidst the ruined streets of Lyon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I said at the end of last chapter I believe, this is going to be a more fight-intensive chapter, so I hope you enjoy the action! Some announcments at the end of the story, so have fun and see you there!

I grunted as I pushed my boot firmly against the undead’s torso as I yank out my sword, pushing the body away from me at the same time. Hitting the ground, it doesn’t get back up again. Next to me, Jeanne was dueling with a spear-wielding corpse, while two more zombies tried to circle around her, perhaps with the intent of attacking all at once in an attempt to overwhelm her guard.

The Ruler refused to cooperate with them, however. In a blur of motion that I barely managed to make out, I saw Jeanne crouch down before swinging her weapon in a circle, knocking all three foes onto their backs. Leaping back up, she rapidly lashed out thrice, impaling each zombie with grace and efficiency.

On the other side, Mordred was slashing and hacking her way through a crowd of zombies, lashing out with not only Clarent but with her armored hands and feet, fighting more like a brawler than a true knight, as some might comment. In the end, if it works it works, and who am I to disagree with a Servant?

I cursed under my breath as I see more figures approaching us. “Second wave incoming,” I hollered at the two Servants fighting beside me. Gripping my sword in one hand, I point the other towards the leading bodies, making a finger gun gesture before I started firing several rounds of Gandr.

Unlike the last time I used them, in Singularity F, the bolts of energy were stronger this time, once again thanks to the strict teachings Medea had provided over the past few days. Each Gandr curse strikes true, and several bodies fall. Unable to feel terror or mourn the loss of their comrades, the undead continued charging. I counted at least two dozen.

At this rate, we’re running the risk of being overrun by sheer numbers. It had been at least several minutes since I fired my signal, but no one had arrived yet. I glance for the briefest of moments upwards, and curse again at seeing nothing. What I do see, however, to the side and just ahead of the next wave of enemies, was a scorched water barrel. I closed my eyes and extend my free arm towards the wooden object.

I grinned grimly, eyes still closed, as I sensed, for a lack of better words, the presence of water in the damaged barrel. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was still enough. I began my chant as I imagined several dozen spikes of ice, around three inches long. I arch the fingers of my free hand, as if I was preparing to lash out at someone with my fingernails.

I waited a few more seconds before sweeping my hand before me, opening my eyes in time to see the dozen or so ice bullets to slam into the side of the second wave. I pant slightly, drained a little. I could probably do something like that again once or twice more before I risked exhaustion. Thankfully, it appears to have done the trick, for only slightly less than a dozen undead bodies remained charging. The others had been struck down, shards of ice sticking out of their unprotected necks.

I look skyward once again, and frown at what I see. A small ball of magical energy was starting to disperse over the center of the city. Damn it. It looks like Ritsuka and his Servants had run into their own trouble. “Looks like we’ll have to hold out a while longer. Ritsuka and Mash have company of their own, it seems,” I said to Mordred and Jeanne. The two female Servants said nothing as the remnants of the second wave of undead crashed into them.

Most of the reanimated corpses focused on the two Servants protecting me, but two break off to engage me. These two must have been part of the local garrison who fell protecting the city, for they were wearing chainmail and bore helmets, both of which were, much like everything else in this blasted place, scorched from fire. One was armed with a spear, the other a broken sword.

I sidestep the spear thrust that had been aimed at my torso, and swing my sword down, aiming for just below the socket that connected the metal tip to the wooden shaft. The wood, already damaged from the fight that had killed its owner, splintered in two, leaving the zombie with an oversized staff. Incapable of emotions such as shock or anger, the zombie swung its weapon like a club, forcing me to duck underneath the strike.

At that moment, its comrade tried to thrust the jagged metal blade into my back, forcing me to roll to the side again, and I end up just behind the sword-wielder. I spin around on the ground, and my sword sliced through the unprotected legs of the zombie, sending it sprawling onto the ground, out of the fight for a few moments.

I push myself up and adopt a fencing stance, one hand gripping the hilt as I angled the tip upwards ever so slightly while the other pressed against my back as I bent my knees slightly, intent on letting my opponent make the first move. Mindlessly, it does so, charging forward as if to slam the splintered end of wood into my chest. I again sidestep the thrust, and lash out with my sword, cleaving the head off of the zombie with a grunt. The body collapsed to the ground as whatever was powering it dissipated into the air, my focus on the disabled undead trying to crawl towards me, using its broken sword to pull itself forward.

I closed the distance between us and reversed my grip on my sword, aiming the tip just above the center of its neck. “Be at peace,” I said apologetically as I thrusted downwards, severing the spinal column and defeating the zombie. Next to me, two halves of a zombie were sent skidding down the street as Mordred called out towards me.

“You doing ok over there, Master?”

“Other than wishing we had to deal with skeletons again for once, just peachy,” I retorted before I groaned, looking ahead of us.

A _third_ group, larger than either of the two previous clusters of bodies, was advancing towards us. It looked like it had to have been at least forty to fifty, possibly more. To make matters worse, despite my words, I was starting to feel a bit exhausted. I wasn’t the only one fed up with this situation, either, s it turned out.

“Enough! I’m going to freakin kill you!” Mordred snarled, emerald eyes narrowed as she dismisses her helmet. I step behind the Knight of Rebellion as she gripped her sword, the section just above the handguard shifting tis form slightly as wild red energy engulfed Clarent’s blade.

“CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!” Mordred roared swinging her sword towards the large mass of zombies. I raise one of my hands, the one holding my sword, using my forearm to protect my eyesight against the blinding light. The other was gripping the bill of my cap, keeping it firmly on my head as a gust of wind buffeted us.

Looking up once both the wind and light died down, I began to sheath my sword while letting out a low whistle of amazement. The raw energy from Mordred’s Noble Phantasm had incinerated the fifty or so undead. The ground before the blonde knight looked like a drunken man had driven a bulldozer over it, the cobblestones broken and scattered.

“Good job, Mordred,” I said earnestly, smiling softly at the pleased expression on her face at the compliment. I looked around, seeing if I could spy any movement in the ruins of the city, relaxing only slightly upon detecting none.

“Looks like all enemies have been eliminated,” Jeanne said softly, the unpleasurable task accomplished. “May their souls rest in peace- “

“Peace?” The three of us froze as a masculine voice echoed around us. “Do they desire peace? That is such a foolish thing to say. They have no peace in their souls,” the voice said mockingly.

“Show yourself!” I demanded. As expected, the newcomer didn’t do so, but instead a low, dark chuckle filled the street, tinged with hints of cruelty and madness.

“There is certainly none residing in us Servants.” My body froze as I feel someone malevolent stand before me. Whoever it was, they were behind me.

“Master!” Mordred snarled, lashing out with her right foot and sweeping me off of my feet and causing me to fall flat on my ass. It was just in time too, as five long, skeletal fingers coated in blood pulled back. More disturbing than the exposed muscles and bone, however, was “You know, I am really sick and tired of Assassin Servants doing that crap when I am around,” Mordred hissed, and I could imagine her green eyes burning as my attacker leapt backwards, out of range of the weapons of either Servant.

“Who are you?” Jeanne demanded, leveling the tip of her flagpole at the apparent Assassin. It was a man dressed in a greyish-black outfit that reminded me of drawings of nobility from the 18th century. It was the only thing elegant about the Servant.

His face was half covered in bandages, a gaping hole where his right eye should be. His skin was a sullen yellow, and greasy black hair hung lank over his forehead. He was hunched slightly, hinting at further possible deformities with his body. His one good eye shown with hints of madness and cruelty, though whether he was another enhanced Servant or not, I couldn’t tell.

“Who am I?” The man released a laugh that lacked warmth or humor. “People call me…the Phantom of the Opera, an Assassin. By order of my Master, the Dragon Witch, this town is under my absolute control. Now, this is the middle of Hell, where the dead live,” Phantom said, before crouching slightly, ready to launch another attack, no doubt. “So, what are you going to do?” He asked tauntingly.

“We’ll crush you,” I said behind Jeanne and Mordred. Needing no further hints as to wait for instructions, Mordred charged forward, swinging Clarent. Her action apparently caught the creepy Assassin off-guard, for he raised his left hand to block it. I flinch at the sound of metal scraping against metal as the fused knife blades pushed against Clarent. The force of the blow sent small fragments of rock tumbling to either side of the two dueling Servants.

“Ruler!” Mordred barked over her shoulder, not looking away from Phantom as she tried to push Clarent further. Jeanne stiffened at Mordred’s nickname for her. “Protect Jacob! This one is mine!” The knight of Rebellion snarled savagely. Jeanne nodded and positioned herself before me, adopting a guard stance with her weapon.

Seeing that her current effort wasn’t gaining her any advantage, Mordred suddenly stopped trying to force her sword, causing the Assassin to stumble slightly forward, off-balance from pushing against something no longer resisting him. Mordred then slammed her knee into his gut, bending the Servant other slightly while also sending him skidding backwards.

Up close, Phantom would have the advantage with his finger-blades, while Clarent’s longer blade would hamper any attacks or blocks in such limited space. Give Mordred some distance from Phantom, however, and she can use the longer reach of her weapon to keep the Assassin at bay. At least, in theory. Given that this is a fight between Servants and not regular humans, I’ve come to the realization that anything can happen.

Mordred unleashes a flurry of blows, Clarent becoming a blur in my vision as sparks leapt up into the air. In front of me, Jeanne watched the fight, her posture screaming of her tension at being forced to watch her fellow Servant fight and being unable to assist the smaller blonde. I hold my hand that bore my Command Seals that binds Mordred and I together, ready to assist her in the best way I could, should she need it.

Thankfully, this fight appeared to be far more balanced compared to fighting Berserker Rider. I suppose that Jeanne didn’t give Phantom the Madness Enhancement trait like she did with her other Assassin. Could she only do it a limited number of times, or did she just choose to only have a select few? I shook my head slightly, refocusing on the fight. Those questions can be asked when the others arrive and Phantom either driven off or dead. The two Servants were moving so rapidly that I could barely track unless I strained my eyes to focus.

At that moment, I watched as Mordred lunged forward, trying to bury as much of Clarent as she could into her opponent’s gut. The Servant merely grinned manically and twisted to the side while lashing out at the same time with those accursed finger blades. I curse under my breath as I realize just a half-second before impact that Mordred wouldn’t be able to dodge the attack.

I bit my lip so hard I almost drew blood as I heard Mordred cry out as three claws raked against her right cheek, sending thin strings of crimson blood flying as Mordred leapt backwards. Her cry was filled with far less pain compared to the one I had heard whilst dreaming last night, filled more with fury.

She swung Clarent, trying to cleave the Assassin at the waist. However, the agile Servant twirled away, though not without sacrifice. There is a rather satisfying tearing sound as Mordred’s blade catches the lower half of his cloak and shears it off. Phantom leapt back even further, looking over his shoulder and grimacing for a brief moment before his gaze snapped back towards my Servant, anger blazing in his eye.

“That’s enough of a first act. Now, let’s start the finale,” he said sinisterly as I felt a wave of ominous energy surge off of them. I realize that he must be preparing to unleash his Noble Phantasm at Mordred. Considering he said that he was of the Assassin class, that meant there was a good chance of it either killing or severally injuring my first Servant. Knowing not what it could do, I kick my brain into overdrive before I suddenly bend down a pick up a rock slightly smaller than my palm, tossing it up slightly to test its weight. Finding it to be satisfactory for what I had in mind, I shook Jeanne by the shoulder, forcing the now-concerned Ruler to look at me.

“I have an idea, but no time to explain. When I give the signal, I want you to charge and impale that fiend,” I said hurriedly, not even waiting for a sign of confirmation from my temporary Servant as I wind up my arm, doing my best to aim the rock my hand held at the enemy Servant’s head.

I hurled the rock with a loud grunt, hoping that my gambit would work. My aim was true, thankfully, and the small rock slammed into his right temple. As a Servant, the rock didn’t harm him, but it did do two things that were still useful. The first, and most important, one was that it broke his concentration, therefore disrupting his preparations to unleash whatever his Noble Phantasm was. The second was that it appeared to have dazed the Assassin. I turn to Jeanne, nodding my head for her to attack. The Ruler nodded back, her turquoise eyes resolute and shining with determination, before she began to charge forward.

“For Lyon!” Jeanne cried out as she leapt through the air, her spear tip aimed towards the breast of the Assassin. Phantom shook his head, regaining his full awareness just seconds too late. With a sickening squelching sound, the steel blade tore through the unprotective coat and shirt he wore, thrusted through his left side of his chest, and presumably, his heart. Jeanne doesn’t stop pushing the weapon until the now-bloodied blade bursts out of his back, scraping loudly against the battered cobblestones behind him.

To my shock, and grudging respect, the blood-thirsty Servant lashed out at, refusing to scream as he tried to claw apart Jeanne’s face. The Ruler leaned back ever so slightly, allowing the blades to miss her by mere inches. He neglected his previous attention towards my Saber, however, and she didn’t waste a moment to press her advantage.

Phantom stiffened as Mordred thrusted Clarent through his right side, the blade popping out of his other side. With a savage grunt, she pulled Clarent upwards, tearing asunder his insides and providing a second fatal blow. This time, the Assassin didn’t lash out, possibly realizing the pointlessness of it, or maybe some unfathomable reason we would never know had crossed his crazed mind. Instead, he clutched feebly at Jeanne’s weapon as blood started to pool around his feet.

“Ugh,” Phantom groaned, slumping down to the ground. Jeanne and Mordred withdrew their weapons, the latter giving a light kick that sent the dying Assassin sprawling onto his back. The gesture only caused the Servant to scoff before he continued speaking. “Still, my mission is accomplished. Though I shall never be rewarded, never.”

“Mission? What mission?” I demanded. He spoke of how Jeanne Alter had tasked him with ‘ruling’ over Lyon, but was that what he was talking about? Or had there been something else that he had sought (and apparently, succeeded) to accomplish.

“This is where my song ends, but the real Hell starts now,” he said mockingly, refusing to reply, either out of spite, or still gripped by madness unlike Saint Martha in her final moments. He raised his head, grimacing as he gazed directly at a stern Jeanne. “Rejoice, oh Holy Maiden! Your evil has grown even more than you!” Jeanne scowled at him.

“Be silent. It must be hard to even talk now.” Sure enough, Phantom’s extremities were starting to fade slowly. Phantom cackled, however, shaking his head. I hear footsteps behind me and look over my shoulder, sighing in relief as the rest of our group arrives. It appears that only my Servants and I had encountered an opposing Servant, then. I wave for them to come closer, but also gesture to be quiet before looking back at Phantom.

“These are not words. This is a song. To lament your future, and to mourn it,” he said, couching up a wad of blood, some of it dribbling down his chin. “I know who you came to seek. Forget about the Dragon Slayer, and run to the ends of the earth. If lady luck is on your side, you _might_ just have a chance to escape what is to come,” he said, before hacking even more blood from his injuries.

What is to come…? Was he referring to the creature Martha had warned us Jeanne Alter had summoned? “What do you mean?” I demanded. The Servant opened his mouth to reply, his single eye glinting in cruel delight.

His words were drowned out, however, as an earth-shaking roar reverberated across the desolate city. Though I can’t see it, at least not yet, I feel my courage slip away ever so slightly, something that seems to be affecting everyone else in some way. Even Mordred looked briefly skyward with a concerned expression present. The only one to be unaffected by this was Phantom, who laughed, his arms and legs gone and only his head and torso left.

“Here it comes! The Dragon is here. The Devil is here. An Evil Dragon unlike any of you have seen before!” Amadeus scowls at the Assassin, fed up with his rantings.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you? The coda has ended, now back to hell with you,” he said before flicking his hand, sending a wave of energy that dissolved the last remnants of the enemy Servant, silencing him for good.

“Thanks for that,” I said softly, opting to sheath my sword. If Phantom hadn’t been lying, then normal swords would do no good here. Mash was still looking skywards, biting her lower lip, clearly worried.

“An evil dragon?” She asked, repeating the words of the departed Assassin. At that moment, my commlink started to go off as Chaldea tried hailing us. I activated it.

 _“Finally, I got through to you!”_ Doctor Roman said, rather frantically. His voice was filled with alarm. _“Everyone, I recommend that you evacuate immediately! This reading is way beyond a Servant…it’s indicating an ‘ultra-size lifeform’. It’s approaching with incredible speed!”_ As if to emphasis Roman’s report, I could hear the sound of wings beating in the air. Unlike the sounds a wyvern would make, it was slower, deeper, more like distant thunder that was drawing closer.

“Beyond a Servant?” Mash said in awe and horror. “Can such a lifeform even exist in this world?”

“Well, I highly doubt it’s the ice cream man that’s visiting us, so I would have to say yes!” I said, eyes narrowed as I addressed the doctor. “Roman, anything else?”

 _“Yes. I am also detecting three Servants heading this way!”_ Crap.

“It must be the Dragon Witch leading them,” Marie said nervously. “This is quite the problem.” Mordred snorted at that.

“That’s an understatement if ever I heard one,” the Knight of Rebellion retorted. Amadeus shot her an irritated look before looking back at Ritsuka and I.

“The orchestra is done. Let’s get out of here,” he urged. “I know we just wasted our effort, but that’s life.” Ritsuka and I glanced at each other, conflicted on what to do.

“If Doctor Roman’s readings really are beyond a Servant, then we must find our ‘Dragon Slayer…” I began to say to my fellow Master.

“What if they are dead though? I mean, the three of you just defeated an enemy Servant. What’s to say that Assassin finished them off before attacking?” Ritsuka added, just as conflicted as I am.

“Master, orders?” Mordred barked, still bleeding slightly from the three shallow cuts she received from Phantom. I prayed that they hadn’t been poisoned somehow, though considering how Mordred didn’t appear to be acting any differently than she normally does, it seems unlikely. I blinked and looked at our Servants.

“We can’t run, not if we want to fix things. If we run here, things will get worse. Let’s find our knight and get out of here!” I decided, and after a brief moment, Ritsuka bowed his head slightly in agreement. Marie turned to her friend, chewing on her lower lip softly in anxiety before finally speaking to the famous musical composer.

“Amadeus, let’s prepare for battle. Will you fight with me?” She asked softly. Amadeus shot her a flat yet amused look.

“Didn’t you just order me to fight?” He said, though not appearing bothered by that at all. “You just need to stand proudly, and smile as always. Don’t worry yourself over me,” Amadeus added, waving his hand dismissively at her look of concern. “IF this gets bad, I’ll run away on my own!” He said jokingly. If we fail, we won’t have to worry about running ever again. Go big or go broke.

“Yes, that’s the Amadeus I know,” Marie responded with a soft smile. “It’s okay, we just have to try sometime. I won’t die. Not here, at least,” the Rider declared, and I could feel her royal heritage with those words.

“That’s the spirit,” I said softly as the sound of beating wings grew louder and louder.

“Doctor!” Mash asked sharply. “Are you detecting any other Servants?’

 _“Searching now,”_ Roman said resignedly, accepting our choice even though he greatly disagreed with it, and a few precious seconds slipped by. _“Right, there’s a faint reading from the castle up ahead of where you are. Good luck and stay alive.”_

“Understood. You heard the doc, let’s move it!” Without a second to waste, we began sprinting towards the fortified citadel at the center of the city, while overhead the sounds of wings and roaring grew louder and louder. It was a race against time, and there would be no runner-up position if we failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Man, this was a rather intense scene of sorts for me to write. Would be a great time to have Ruby Rose's Semblance lol. 
> 
> The game made no obvious suggestions, at least to my perspective, as to whether some of the other Servants Alter summoned had the Madness Enhancement trait, so for Phantom, I presumed that it wasn't the case. What did you think of the fight scene? Was it as enjoyable as the others?
> 
> So, for announcements. The first is that I am going to start accepting a limited number of requests for short story ideas related to the story in someway from you, the viewers. I do reserve the right to have a final say on whether I make it or not, but I encourage the sharing of ideas. After all, I have heard of some great ones already either directly or inspired by previous comments that have been left behind. Secondly, the College AU story is going to be delayed by at least a few weeks to a month as I finish up my world-building process and a tentative plot structure to help guide me while still allowing for my preference of flexibility. However, I am writing up another story, based on the wonderful SummerFest Event. It'll be a short story and more focused on a few characters, hence why it will be added to a collection featuring this story but not written in as chapters for this story due to the potential disruption of theme flows and whatnot. It is mainly going to be Jacob and Alter, though as a friendship pairing and not romantic as that is reserved for Jacob and Mordred going out and all that happy heartwarming, doki-doki goodness.
> 
> Now, for the fun part, the question(s) of the chapter! First one: What is your favorite abridged Anime series?  
> Second question: Which of the Fate movies and anime series that have been made and released so far are your favorites?
> 
> As always, I eagerly await your responses, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	17. The Dragon and the Dragon Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Party encounter a new ally and Jeanne Alter's ultimate weapon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter than normal, mainly using it to deal with some plot devices.

“It’s getting closer!”

“Really? I couldn’t tell!” I snapped rather harshly. I instantly felt bad for using such a tone towards my fellow Master, but right now wasn’t the best time to shout out obvious advice. We approached the castle, and paused by the hole in the front wall. “I’m sorry about that, Rits,” I said, turning to my friend.

“It’s ok. I think we’re all on edge right now,” Ritsuka said, and I gave me a weak grin in response. I then turned to the others.

“Mordred, Jeanne, Mash, you’ll follow Ritsuka and I. Everyone else, get ready,” I instructed before we moved into the castle.

It took us about five minutes or so of wandering around the darkened corridors before suddenly Mash, who had taken point, cried out happily.

“There you are!” Mash exclaimed between Ritsuka and I in clear relief. I squinted my eyes at the hidden figure. It was a tall figure with a long, two-handed sword. A faint light blue glow emanated from his body. Suddenly, the figure moved towards us.

“One…after another…” He said in a baritone-like voice, swinging his sword towards Mash. Mordred shoved me to the side, somewhat gently thankfully, and blocked the sword strike with Clarent.

“Mordred! Don’t kill him, we need him alive,” I reminded the battle-hungry blonde. However, it seems that I wouldn’t have to worry about a fight breaking out, as I could see Mordred take a half-step backwards. I was able to see a gleam of surprise and recognition in her eyes as the Servant lowered his own sword.

“Saber of Black?!? What’s this, a Greater Grail War reunion?” I heard her mutter to herself in wonder. The Servant took a half-step closer, moving in a non-threatening manner as he stepped into the light. He had long, silvery hair, and greenish-blue eyes. His sword was indeed a simple two-handed design that had the scars of war marking the blade. He had silvery shoulder guards and gauntlets, but yet he bore no breastplate, or even a proper shirt, revealing a well-toned chest chiseled from rock. The two most eye-catching features about the Servant before us was the arcane marking that trailed up his chest to the side of his face that seemed to pulsate a light blue, the same blue that had been glowing earlier, and a wound that he was now pressing a hand to.

Jeanne gasped slightly at the sight. “What a terrible wound,” I heard her say from behind. The mysterious Servant didn’t respond to that, however, eyes locked onto my Saber, confused.

“Do I know you?” He asked Mordred. She shook her head.

“Not unless you are secretly a homunculus pretending to be a Heroic Spirit. We were supposed to be opponents in a Grail War, but that’s something to deal with later,” the Knight of Rebellion said in a rather guarded tone. I could see her desire to challenge him to a duel, perhaps, but thankfully she hadn’t forgotten what was at stake. Ritsuka shot me a questioning look, which I shrugged.

Note to self: Get Mordred to explain what the hell happened in her Grail War.

“Please wait,” Jeanne implored, stepping forward and standing next to Mordred. “We are on your side. Or, at the very least, we have no desire to bring any more harm upon you.” The Servant opened his mouth to speak when the building trembled.

“At any rate, please hurry!” Mash said rather frantically, gesturing with her free hand the way we came in. “A dragon is approaching, along with several Servants. We’re at an overwhelming disadvantage here-“

The Servant gripped his sword once more. Instead of trying to swing at us again, however, he walked closer, an intense look in his eyes as he stared past us. “A dragon, huh,” he remarked. “I see. That’s why I was summoned and then attacked.” Mash nodded eagerly, happy to see progress.

“We’ll help you, let’s get out of here!” The dragon-slayer nodded, and we turned around, rushing back out into the open. We were immediately greeted by a panicking Marie. The sounds of thunderous wings was all around us. Winds created by each movement of wings whipped around us. The dragon was almost here.

“We gotta hurry…” my voice trailed off as a massive shadow moved over us as a massive bulk swooped down, landing before us.

The ground trembled as four massive, clawed, scaley feet landed in the town clearing square. A long, muscular black tail swished back and forth, caving in the remaining walls of the buildings behind the trunk of a body. A pervasive sense of dread filled my body, threatening to crush my spirits utterly as I gazed at a death incarnate. Bright orange eyes leered at us with pure malice. The dragon’s jaws hung slightly open, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp fangs the size of daggers.

Leering down at us was Jeanne Alter. A saddle of sorts had been made that rested at the base of her dragon’s neck, truly fitting for the Dragon Witch. She let out a short bark of cruel laughter as her gaze swept across our party.

“I was wondering what you found,” the fallen saint admitted, smiling wickedly. “Turns out it’s just another dying Servant. Very well, you can all die together!” As Jeanne Alter shouted those final words, she pressed her heels against the sides of her mount, who reared its massive head up and roared, drowning out the shouting our Servants were making around us.

As the dragon moved, a hysterical part of my mind replayed a memory of a book my mom had read to me as a child before bed. A massive dragon boasting about his invincibility against any threat to a small thief made invisible by a ring of power.

_I kill when I wake. I am strong, strong, STRONG! My armor is like tenfold shields. My teeth are like swords, my claws spears. The shock of my tail, a thunderbolt! My wings a hurricane, and my breath death_

I snapped out of it when I noticed that Mash had pushed past me, and was now standing between the dragon and us, her massive shield slamming into the ground as she braced her body.

“Mash?” Ritsuka asked, concerned, a sentiment I shared. While I hadn’t gotten to experience it due to Mordred and I dealing with the corrupt Archer during Singularity F, Ritsuka had told me about Mash’s Noble Phantasm, Lord Chaldea, and how it was a protective force field in a way. But because we couldn’t test it before Rayshifting, we had no idea what its limits were.

“What are you doing?” I asked as Jeanne joined her, gripping the lower section of her weapon as she stared defiantly at the monster.

“Mash, we’ll do it together!” Mash nodded nervously.

“R-Right!” She replied with a slight stammer. To her credit though, she did not lose her determination held in her eyes.

“Incinerate them, Fafnir!” Jeanne Alter shouted as the dragon opened its jaws. I saw a faint glow begin to form at the back of its mouth, undoubtedly the heralding of dragon fire.

“Luminosite-“ Jeanne began to say, unfurling her banner and holding it aloft. Her Noble Phantasm. She hadn’t told us what it was, but considering her current actions, it must be some sort of defensive one like Mash’s. Next to her, Mash began powering up her own Noble Phantasm.

“Deploying Virtual Noble Phantasm!” A brick-like structure of ethereal blue energy appeared before the two, while light shined from Jeanne’s banner.

“Eternelle!” Jeanne shouted, just in time. I felt a something akin to a warm embrace surround us as the dragon unleashed its trademark attack, bright orange flames lunging towards us. I was unable to tear my eyes away from the roaring fire, even as Mordred dragged me behind her as if to act as a final shield should the two Noble Phantasm fail.

Thankfully, when the fire slammed into the phantom wall, it was unable to break through, furious branches of fire being deflected to the sides of the barrier as it moved around, pushing ferociously against that which denied it access.

The air was now dry, a testament to the intensity of dragon fire. “Kya!” Marie shrieked instinctively as the temperature rose rapidly as the dragon continued to breath torrents of fire at us. I silently prayed that Jeanne and Mash would manage to maintain the barrier for as long as possible.

My commlink went off and I activated it. _“Whoa! What an immense amount of energy! You all right?!? Can you guys hear me_?” Doctor Roman practically shouted as flames continued to press against the Noble Phantasms of Jeanne and Mash. _“S-Say something!”_ I growled brought the device up to my mouth.

“Doctor, if you do not have anything helpful to say at this moment, then please stop talking!” I hissed. Thankfully the doctor fell silent at the rebuke. I’ll apologize for my tone later…presuming there will be a later. Right now, we can’t afford to be distracted. I had no idea how much longer Jeanne and Mash could maintain the protective barrier, nor if they would be able to repeat the feat a second time without rest. Even then, we can’t just stay here and try to tank the dragon fire. We needed to escape. I racked my mind, trying to come up with something, anything.

Jeanne grunted, sweat dripping off of her brow. “Just as I thought, this is..” Whatever the Ruler thought ‘it’ was, she didn’t say. My heart skipped a beat at seeing Mash falter next to her, looking even more worse for wear despite being untouched by the attack.

“I can’t hold on anymore, it’s no use!” The Demi-Servant cried out in panic, and sure enough the wall-like projection she had manifested was starting to flicker in and out of existence. We had seconds at best to come up with a plan…

“No,” our mysterious Servant said. It looks like you made it.” Sure enough, Fafnir ceased spitting out fire, letting out a displeased hiss. Was it just me, or was it staring intently at the one Mordred had dubbed ‘Servant of Black’? “Thanks to you, my power is restored a little.”

“Huh?” Jeanne asked in confusion, voicing my inner thoughts at that statement. The Servant didn’t reply, walking past the two female Servants that had been protecting us. He stopped and stared at the dragon, gripping the hilt of his sword.

“It’s been a while, Evil Dragon Fafnir. If you’ve been resurrected, I will send you back to your slumber,” he said as he raised his sword. To my shock, the powerful dragon actually recoiled at the action, spreading out its leathery, bat-like wings as if it was preparing to take flight. I could swear that I could see a mixture of anger, hatred, and more importantly, fear, blazing in its eyes. Even Jeanne Alter was taken aback, and for the first time since we first crossed paths, I could see concern on her features.

“Hear me, One Who Rules the Blue Sky! My name is Siegfried! He who once defeated thee!” As Siegfried said those words, I turned to the others. Mordred stared expectantly at her fellow Saber, undoubtedly knowing what he was about to do.

“I think he is about to unleash his Noble Phantasm. Get ready to leave this city. We’ll run as far as we can without stopping until we can’t run anymore,” I said hurriedly, activating my Magic Circuits and flooding my legs with prana, with the intent of being able to keep up with our Servants as best we can. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ritsuka nodding while doing something similar, while Marie summoned her mount, a mare made of clear glass.

“Noble Phantasm, Release!” Siegfried intoned, preparing to swing his sword as light blue energy covered the blade.

“Bal-mung!” He roared as he swung the sword, sending a wave of energy less wild than Clarent Blood Arthur, but no less potent. The attack smashed into Fafnir, who screeched in pain. Jeanne Alter was nearly thrown from her saddle. Fury distorted her facial features as she recovered her seating.

“Damnit!” She cursed. “Fafnir, climb up now!” We braced ourselves from the violent gusts of wind created as the black dragon began flapping its wings, taking to the air. It let out a furious roar that screamed of vengeance, but that was something to worry about later. We had gotten a reprieve for now.

Siegfried fell to one knee, leaning against his sword as he panted heavily, one hand pressing against the wound he bore. “Sorry,” he said as Mordred and I hurried over. “This is the best I can do. You must leave before they come back,” he said as he finally managed to stand back up on his own. I nodded rapidly, turning to the others.

“You heard the dragon slayer. We go now!”

* * *

“Damn Servant,” Jeanne Alter cursed high in the sky, unable to lash out at anything or anyone to release on her building anger. Behind and to either side of her dragon, the two Servants accompanying her kept their distance as they rode their own wyverns. “It’s dangerous. Considering what it to come, I can’t exhaust Fafnir. That blasted sword must not be allowed to become a problem!”

Scowling, the fallen Ruler urged her mount to slow down, and her two Servants guided their mounts so that the smaller wyverns were hovering to either side of her. She turned to the one on her right, a knight in full, black armor, red light shining out of the visor of his helmet. Then she looked at the other one, a man with a nonchalant expression on his features as one hand gripped the wyvern he rode on and the other clutched a massive sword with a rounded projection at the tip.

“Berserker, Assassin. That ‘Dragon Slayer’ is the target. Hunt him down. Crush him, and break that sword of his. Berserker Assassin will come assist you. Kill all in your path,” Jeanne Alter ordered. Without a word, the two Servants bowed their heads in acknowledgment of their task, before breaking off to begin their hunt.

“Come, Fafnir,” she said soothingly, running a hand along the evil dragon’s side. “We return to Orléans. I have much to discuss with Gilles.” Her dragon rumbled in acknowledgement and increased his speed, leaving the fallen Ruler to her thoughts in silence.

* * *

We had been running for thirty minutes or so. Jeanne, Mash, Siegfried, Ritsuka, and I were towards the rear, having exerted the most energy in the ruins of Lyon. Mordred and Medea brought up the rear, the latter because of mediocre stamina outside of casting spells, the former as the true rearguard for any purser. In the lead was Marie, still astride her horse and the least winded of the party.

My lungs were burning, and I slowed down. Marie looked over her shoulder and wheeled her horse about, bringing the others to a halt. Glad that we had stopped, I sat down, gulping down deep breaths of air. The remains of Lyon were barely visible. Grabbing my water canteen, I unscrewed the lid and took a deep drink of water. Mordred and the other Servants formed a defensive circle around Ritsuka and I while we rested.

Ritsuka, being less drained due to not engaging in a BS zombie horde slaughter, activated his commlink. “Doctor, are you getting any readings coming towards us?”

 _“I am not detecting the ultra-sized lifeform anymore. But there are still enemies near your position! I don’t know if they’re aware of your presence or not, but you gotta keep moving,”_ the acting director tried to urge us.

“Senpai, I want a horse,” Mash whined softly to Ritsuka, staring jealously at Marie’s mount. The Rider smiled apologetically to the Demi-Servant.

“Sorry, this is a one-seater.”

“We…we can’t just go on running,” I said. “The dragon is no longer nearby. I say we fight back,” I said.

“I agree,” Ritsuka said in quick agreement. Mash gave a more reluctant nod.

“I suppose so, in that case…”she said before Jeanne called out to us.

“I see something up ahead,” Jeanne reported. I groaned as I force my tired muscles to push me back onto my feet, and I walked over gingerly to the saint, my fellow Master close behind. “It’s the French army!”

“Looks like they have company,” I remarked grimly, pointing at the various shapes circling and swooping down on the mass of figures Jeanne was pointing towards.

“They’re being attacked by wyverns,” Jeanne responded, biting her lower lip. I remembered that a number of those soldiers had probably been her brothers-in-arms when she was alive, and that one of her closest comrades was leading the remnants of the army. “We need to go help them,” she said, staring at me pleadingly. I nodded firmly as the other Servants joined us.

“Mordred, you ready to take down some wyverns?” I asked, and the knight nodded back with one of her more typical blood-thirsty grins.

“You better believe it, Master.” I nodded and turned to Ritsuka.

“Let’s allow for Mordred, Jeanne, Sasaki, and Chulainn handle assisting the French. We’ll move in closer but keep our distance,” I suggested, a bit reluctantly. While I don’t like sending Servants off to fight and not be right behind them, at this point my exhaustion would make me more of a liability for the Servants. Therefore, I have to take this time to recover some of my stamina. Ritsuka nodded back in understanding.

“Let’s go be heroes then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a hard time with this chapter personally. It just felt kinda bland, though that might also be compared to having all those fight scenes last chapter. Next chapter should be more exciting, as we'll have some Servant fights! I wonder who our two mystery enemy Servants are? :)
> 
> Some more exciting news, I have published the first chapter of the tagalong story based on the SummerFest event! Feel free to check it out, though it is not going to replace my priority on this story! Did you guys enjoy the chapter at least? Sorry again if it is a crappy one. I guess that's bound to happen every now and then though, right?
> 
> Question of the day(s): what do you think of using the whole Gawain and Mordred being half-siblings thing like in Arthurian legend? Been wondering about if I wanted to have that be a thing in this story, ya know?
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading another chapter, and I hope you had fun! Looking forward to feedback, and see you in chapter 18!


	18. Ghosts of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company encounter some familiar foes while assisting the French army near Lyon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather excited to see how this chapter is received, so let's get to it! Hope you enjoy!

Caught on two sides, the forces that had been harassing the French men-at-arms and knights were scattered rather swiftly. For the most part, we kept our distance from the French, not wanting to risk provoking the men into attack us. Of course, some of the enemy forces had turned their attentions onto us, but Mordred and Mash had taken care of that.

“I think that’s it, Master,” Mordred said, flicking her blade clean of blood from some zombies that had made their way over to us. Jeanne was still engaging wyverns and the undead, fighting closer to the French army, but she seemed to have things in hand. I nodded at her before activating my commlink.

“Doctor, we are wrapping up-“ I fell silent suddenly, a sense of unease floating around my body. Standing next to me, I saw that Ritsuka had had a similar sensation. Mordred pushed me behind her once more before I could turn around, her helmet snapping back into place, though a cold fury was present in her eyes for the briefest of seconds.

Turning around, I saw that we had company. If I were a betting man, the two figures before us were both Servants. The way they arrived was clear, as was their allegiance. Behind them hovered two red wyverns, dread wyverns if I was remembering what Mash had told me earlier. Tougher and more resilient than the more common green ones. My attention, however, was more focused on the two figures facing us, not their mounts.

One of them was a man wielding a two-handed sword that looked more like the kind used for beheadings rather than combat. He wore a black trench coat of sorts, with silvery bars and two stylized horse heads on each shoulder.

It was the other figure who I quickly came to realize was the one responsible for the aura of dread I had felt mere seconds earlier.

The figure was masculine-looking, encased in pitch-black armor, and an armet-style helmet covering his facial features. A reddish light seemed to glow behind the eye slits of the helmet, and from the back of the helmet trails a long and thing stream of horsehair dyed a royal purple. His black armor bored countless numbers of scratches and dents, a testament to a veteran warrior of many battles. In his right hand, he gripped a long, metal rod that was covered with red veins of what I presumed to be latent energy. In front of me, I felt Mordred tensed, and I felt a sense of anger coming off of her body.

Had we encountered another Servant she had fought against? I wanted to ask, but another voice prevented me from doing so. The lone male Caster of our group gasped before walking up, pointing a clawed figure at the newcomers that was trembling.

“Damn you!” Mozart spat the words out with such anger, such vitriol that I took a step back. The Caster was staring at the unarmored Servant, eyes blazing with fury. Next to her, Marie sighed, smiling sadly as she rested a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“My, what a coincidence. I’ve never forgotten your face, you lazy artisan,” she said rather mischievous considering the sad smile still present. The man grinned slightly in response, nodding his head.

“That’s good to hear. I’ve never forgotten yours either. Your face, and your pale white neck.” Aaaaaand we have another creepy Servant opposing us. Did I forget to check my horoscope this morning or something? “At the same time, I feel like this is destiny. That you and I share a special connection,” the Servant said in a nonchalant manner. He gestured at her with his sword. “Don’t we? The fate of an executioner killing the same person twice, I feel like only we share that kind of connection.” His words only caused the scowl on Amadeus’s face to deepen as he stared in disgust.

“Not only in life, but even now you’re eager to execute Marie? Charles-Henri Sanson. Could it be that you are genuinely mad?” He demanded, while also revealing our opponent’s True Name. The Assassin scoffed at that.

“As a human, it pains me to discuss our relationship with a low-life like you. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, you claimed all lives, all humans, are filthy. Not I. Humans are sacred, precious things. That is the reason why we executioners respect life. We are incompatible, you and I. Trash who couldn’t even love humans, trash who couldn’t understand her, has no right to be next to her,” Sanson sneered, raising his sword, while Amadeus readied his own weapon.

“ _ARRRRTTTTTHHUUUUUUUR!”_ His companion, however, was the first one to attack. The demonic-looking knight lunged forward, targeting neither Ritsuka or I, or even Siegfried, but Mordred. The former growled and crouched down slightly, swinging Clarent as the Berserker (for that must surely be a Berserker Class Servant) slammed his own weapon downwards.

I watch with shock as Mordred was forced to one knee as she struggled to keep her sword over her head. “Damn it!” She snarled, and lashed out with her right hand, briefly gripping Clarent with one hand while slamming the back of her gauntlet against her opponent’s chest. The Berserker skidded backwards, before howling the name ‘Arthur’ again.

“So this is what the Peerless Knight Lancelot has been reduced to, huh?” Mordred sneered, her helmet still hiding her face from what was apparently one of her former comrades-in-arms. This was Lancelot? The knight Mordred had described to me as being a womanizer?

The maddened knight only howls like a beast in response, charging forward, his head focused on Mordred. My knight looked over at us for the briefest of moments. “Master, this one is mine, so stay out of it!” She warned before looking back and raising Clarent to block the blow her opponent was swinging around rather wildly.

I bit my lip, unable to help but refusing to respect Mordred’s desire. Nearby, I could hear more sounds of steel ringing against steel, more grunts and groans. Turning my head slightly, I saw Chulainn dueling Sanson, while from either side, Medea and Amadeus casted spells at the two wyverns nearby, keeping them at bay. Good. We won’t have to worry about the flying lizards for now then. But where was Jeanne?

“Jacob, look!” Mash’s call drew my attention away from the fights going on before me, and instead to follow the direction of the Demi-Servant’s hand. I gritted my teeth at what I saw. Jeanne was standing with her back to the French army, her flagstaff planted into the ground, as opposite her stood Carmilla, the Berserker Assassin we had encountered at La Charité.

I turned to my own Assassin. “Sasaki, support Jeanne. Try to use your Noble Phantasm on Berserker Assassin,” I instructed. The sword-wielder nodded with a bored expression, though giving a brief look of longing at the fight between Mordred and Lancelot before sprinting forward, his massive sword drawn and trailing behind him.

I watch with narrowed eyes as I saw the cruel vampire Assassin taunt my temporary Servant as some wyverns hovered overhead, staring hungrily at the Maid of Orléans. I couldn’t hear whatever words the two female Servants sent to one another, but I felt it was highly unlikely that they were complimenting one another’s outfits, nor about the weather.

Suddenly, Carmilla waved a hand, and a wyvern broke off its dive on a group of soldiers moving away from the saint to attack Jeanne. The Ruler barely managed to dodge to the side when a loud _boom_ echoed over the field. That’s right, this was the very beginning of the age of black powder and cannons. The wyvern was struck by a round object in the chest, and was sent crashing into the ground before it finally began to dissolve into a cloud of purple and black dust. All fell silent for the briefest of moments as a new voice rang out as a man in armor appeared at the head of the battered army.

“Artillery, concentrate your fire on the dragons! Fire!” Even from a quarter of a mile away, I could hear the mounted man’s voice, tinged with a heavy French accent. I squinted my eyes, making out silvery armor with green highlights, and thick black hair, but that was all. More clouds of thick white smoke appeared amidst the ranks of soldiers and knights, and sounds like thunder rolled over us. Wyverns began to drop out of the sky like ducks before a punt gun, struck by stone balls and metal arrows launched from the primitive but no less deadly cannons of the era.

I saw Berserker Assassin look up, undoubtedly in either shock, horror, or a mixture of both, while Sasaki finally finished closing the gap. I saw him blink briefly out of existence as he utilized his Noble Phantasm, somehow managing to produce three sword blades that would strike as one. At the last moment, Carmilla must have sensed the danger, for she ducks to the side.

The failed attack did, however, give Jeanne a chance to attempt to impale the female vampire, for she thrusted her flagpole without hesitation. I groaned in disappointment as I saw her somehow manage to block the strike before jumping over Sasaki’s head, heading our way. Sasaki and Jeanne began to chase after her, but Carmilla somehow managed to widen the gap, rushing over and calling out to her two fellow Servants, scowling furiously.

“Retreat! Lancelot! Sanson!” Her fellow Assassin growled and deflected a thrust from Chulainn’s spear before leaping backwards as Carmilla joined him by his side. Lancelot, however, howled again and threw himself at Mordred, threatening to break through her guard.

“it seems that knight has gotten his attention. Now what, Carmilla? Will he even listen to reason?” I could hear the exasperation dripping from Sanson’s voice. The vampire pondered the situation for the moment, before shaking her head once.

“Retreat. We have no obligation to stay with a black knight that’s lost his mind,” the masked Servant sneered. “Lancelot! Buy us as much time as you can. Until the moment your life is extinguished!” Whether Mordred’s old comrade had heard those words or not didn’t matter, as the Berserker merely continued his unrelenting flurry of attacks.

Chulainn and Jeanne, the latter having just arrived from sprinting after the Berserker Assassin, tried in vain to prevent the escape of the two Assassins, who swiftly mounted their wyverns while using the one that must have belonged to Lancelot as a sacrificial lamb to delay their pursuers. In the few seconds it took the Lancer and the Ruler to dispatch their foe, the two enemy Servants were blurs in the sky, out of reach.

“Master, I know it would be a breach of conduct for a duel between knights, but we should-“ Mash began to say before I raised a hand, cutting her and Ritsuka off, my gaze locked onto Mordred.

“No.”

“But, Jacob Senpai, what if he defeats Mordred?” Mash asked worriedly. I shook my head firmly, narrowing my eyes.

“I don’t think that is about to happen. Mordred is acting differently about this fight, and I don’t think it is simply because she is fighting a former comrade from her life.” The Saber was acting even more like a Berserker at times, being in a state of almost constant motion, lashing out not only with Clarent, but with her elbows, knees, and feet, throwing in the occasional bunch as well. The taller Berserker ducked and weaved as best as he could, but even then, some hits still connected. “I still have my Command Seals, too,” I said, waving the hand bearing the two remaining red symbols.

The sounds of cannon fire had stopped, as had the shrieks and roars of the dwindling number of wyverns that had been in the air. However, all were focused on the death fight between the two knights.

I winced as Mordred took a hit to the side from Lancelot’s weapon, though she appeared to have barely felt it in her own apparent rage. Her counterstrike saw Clarent striking against Lancelot’s breastplate, giving the black metal a new, deep gouge.

Giving another distorted roar, King Arthur’s most famous knight continued his assault, showing none of the elegance, skill, or technique I would have imagined from such a legendary knight. This, I realized, was one of the true costs of a Servant being summoned as a Berserker. Over the clashing of weapons, I could hear Mordred beginning to shout, Clarent locked against Lancelot’s staff.

“Everyone blamed me for turning against the king. For bringing the end of Camelot. While I admit to being the final act, you started it, Lancelot! You killed Gareth and Gaheris! Worst of all, you betrayed the king!”

“ _ARTHURRRRRR!_ ”

“Shut up! You don’t have a right to say his name!” Mordred howled in response, slamming a fist into Lancelot’s visor, sending the Berserker stumbling backwards. Still holding his rod in hand, however, he lashed out, forcing Mordred to contort and twist her body rapidly to avoid the dangerous blade.

The last time I had seen this level of hatred from Mordred was when she fought against the corrupted version of King Arthur. This time, though, it feels different. Her rage is coming out as if to avenge the honor of the very one who she declared to hate more than anything else. I could feel the others watching tensing, undoubtedly as feeling that there was something else going on.

The next minute felt like it had been hours since the enemy fled the field of battle, and the armor borne by both knights were now dented and scratched, though a fatal blow had yet been struck. Finally, Mordred and Lancelot disengaged, and the fight paused for a few seconds as the two warriors stared at one another. Finally, Mordred made the first move, raising her sword before her in a familiar posture.

“This is your sentence long overdue. I, Mordred Pendragon, son of King Arthur Pendragon, sentence you to death!” Once more, Mordred’s helmet retracted. Her lips were curled in a mixture between a sneer and a snarl, while her emerald eyes blazed with fury. I stepped back, realizing what she was about to do, to unleash her Noble Phantasm once again.

“CLARENT-“

“ _Arthur….?_ ” To my shock, Lancelot recoiled the moment he saw Mordred’s helmet disappear. I couldn’t see what his expression was, but it seemed that he hadn’t seen the Knight of Rebellion without her helmet in life. Mordred either didn’t care or didn’t notice, swinging Clarent towards the Berserker.

“-BLOOD ARTHUR!” The Peerless Knight did not try to dodge the column of raw energy, or even unleash his own Noble Phantasm. Instead, Lancelot stood his ground, for once truly looking like the knight he must have been in life, as his figure was consumed by Mordred’s Noble Phantasm. The knight didn’t howl in pain or defiance.

When the wave of energy ended, Mordred’s shoulders were rising and falling rapidly, still glaring at the Berserker. Already, the signs of a defeated Servant returning back to the Throne of Heroes was occurring. The long metal shaft he had used dropped to the ground, the red veins that had been covering it gone, before it too vanished in a golden cloud. His helmet missing in places, I could see a single, purple eye gazing out at Mordred for the briefest of moments, before turning his head slightly, weakly, towards Mash, though why I didn’t know. A look of recognition appeared to have flashed, before he closed his eyes, fading away silently.

The battlefield was silent once more, and I rushed over to Mordred, who had now buried Clarent into the ground at her feet, slumping slightly against the blade. Her wild blonde hair was damp with sweat, though aside from the three red claw marks that had been courtesy of Phantom, she looked physical unharmed for the most part. She may have suffered some internal damage, but nothing fatal. At the very least though, I expect she would have bruises, if a Servant could have one, that was.

“You okay?” I finally asked the Saber. Mordred straightened her back, nodding, a defiant gleam in her eyes.

“Yeah, just need to catch my breath,” she said rather vaguely. I hummed softly, but didn’t push the matter. Now that the battle had truly ended, there was nothing to distract the French army from approaching us, even if it was apparently hesitant for the moment. I turned to Jeanne.

“We should go, now. We need to find somewhere safe for the night, to rest and regroup. Any ideas?” I asked the Ruler. It was the newest member of our ragtag group who answered, however.

“I heard tell of an abandoned fort a few miles west of here. You can use it to rest and plan,” Siegfried said, forcing himself back up to his feet. Chulainn hovered nearby, ready to support the injured Servant as requested by Ritsuka.

“Jeanne!” The man who had rallied the French army, and tis apparent leader, was galloping towards us. He bared no weapon at us, and as he drew closer, I could make out the look of awe and desperate hope on his features as Marie’s words from this morning came to mind, specifically, the one who was leading the army. So this was Gilles de Rais, before he descended into madness. Jeanne stiffened, and shot her comrade a hesitant look.

“Please wait,” Gilles pleaded, shouting at the top of his voice. “You are indeed Jeanne d’Arc! Not the Dragon Witch, but a bona fida saint!” Jeanne didn’t answer, and Marie nudged her friend, concerned.

“Shouldn’t you answer?” She asked the Ruler. Jeanne shook her head sadly, turning away.

“I can’t. If I answer, I will endanger Gilles’s position. For now, we can’t depend on them. At the very least, we must endure the scorn of those who once fought by my side,” she said.

“But…do they really hate you?” Marie asked in disbelief. Jeanne shrugged, but didn’t look back as she started jogging a bit faster.

“Let’s go,” was all she said. I shook my head at the disappointed Rider when she began to open her mouth. This wasn’t the time nor place for this. Next to me, Mordred shook my shoulder, flashing a tired but cocky smirk.

“Let’s get going.”

* * *

Thankfully, we arrived at the abandoned fort Siegfried had mentioned without any further disruptions. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in a rather beautiful shade of orange overhead. It was nice to have something pleasant, no matter how mundane it might seem, considering the events we had gone through today.

When we arrived, the main gate, a simple wooden door, was hanging ajar. Sasaki and Medea went in first, taking a few minutes to ensure we weren’t about to enter another ambush. I waited, my eyes darting to and from Mordred subtly, until the Greek Caster reappeared in the doorway, gesturing that it was safe to enter. Marie and Chulainn entered next, along with Amadeus, to ensure that Chulainn helped the injured Saber rest with his back against one of the walls. Then when we were all inside, and Medea had lit a torch to brighten the dimly lit room we were in, Marie activated her Noble Phantasm once more.

The instant the Rider had finished, Mordred had muttered something about going onto the battlements to keep watch. I turned to Ritsuka, who was watching Mash, Marie, and Jeanne as the trio clustered around Siegfried, talking to one another in soft voices. I tapped his shoulder, startling him slightly before he turned around with a questioning look on his face.

“Rits, I’m leaving you in charge for right now,” I said quietly. “I’m going to check on Mordred.” The fight, or rather, her behavior and actions whilst fighting the Berserker, had bothered me. Against my personal desires, I had decided to keep quiet on the matter, at least until we had gotten to somewhere safely. Now, I would try my luck to see if Mordred was willing in any way, shape, or form to answer the questions rattling around inside my head.

Ritsuka nodded in understanding. “I think I can handle that. I’ll wait until you’re finished before we make any final decisions about what we should do tomorrow. Good luck,” he said, and I gave a grateful smile to my friend before I headed towards the staircase Mordred had taken to reach the top of the stone walls surrounding the small fort.

When I finally found her, the Knight of Rebellion had dismissed her suit of armor, arms crossed as she stared out at the horizon, exposing her bare back to me. At that moment, I felt a tinge of regret over not having a camera. The scene before me felt picture-worthy. I shook my head and started to slowly walk over, licking my lips nervously. I started to open my mouth before the smaller blonde turned around, looking at me expectantly.

“Everything okay down there?” She asked, trying to sound nonchalant. It felt hollow, but I didn’t call her out on that. I shrugged instead.

“Marie, Jeanne, and Mash are checking on Siegfried, to see if Marie’s Noble Phantasm worked on his injury like it has for us. But that’s not what I came up here to talk about,” I said. Mordred’s brow wrinkled slightly at that last part.

“Master?”

“Hey, Mordred,” I said slowly, weighing each word in my head before saying it out loud. The moment of hesitation causes Mordred to turn around, an adorably confused expression on her face before I finally decided on the words I would use. “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you guys think? I had to gloss over the part where Carmilla tries to verbally destroy Jeanne before the latter admits she might have indeed been crazy, ectara, but we were sticking with Jacob's perspective, and I also wanted to focus on the fight between Lancelot and Mordred. I felt that even though Mordred killed King Arthur and brought a final end to Camelot and the Round Table, but Lancelot played a rather critical role in setting the stage for those events. Therefore, I imagined that Mordred would have some personals issues encountering Lancelot.
> 
> I also am going to start focusing a bit more on the development of Mordred and Jacob's relationship some more next chapter, so I hope it feels that I had set the scene properly for such a result at the end of this chapter. It's not like by the end of this singularity the two will begin dating lol, but I want to continue moving closer and not just let it feel better as staying in the friendzone, if my rambling here makes any sense?
> 
> I also had a brief mental crisis attack for a lack of better words writing this (I suffer from depression and anxiety unfortunately) and for the briefest of moments thought that I should give up and that this is a piece of crap. Obviously, I came to my senses, and realized that if I was correct, then I wouldn't have almost two thousand views, 31 comment threads, 23 subscribers, ten to eleven bookmarks, and 53 kudos in the two months since I posted the first chapter. Honestly, this story has become one of the most stabilizing and pleasurable things and activities I have at the moment, and I won't stop this story and my plans. Sorry if this isn't relevant, but I just felt the need to mention it. The important part is that I got over that moment of self-doubt, and will refuse to abandon this story even if it takes me years to finish it. I look forward to seeing the journey between today and the day I publish the last chapter, whenever that may be.
> 
> As for the questions of the day: Who was your first free event Servant in FGO?  
> Second one: What is your favorite non-FanFiction book series?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for reading it! In addition, thank you all for the love, support, and time you have spent on this work of mine, from the bottom of my heart, sappy as it sounds. If anyone has short story requests like I have mentioned in the past few chapters, please feel free to comment below and whatnot. Looking forward to y'alls feedback and answers. See you next chapter!


	19. Conversations, Promises, and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred have a little heart-to-heart, Chaldea's Masters plan their next move, and Jacob asks for a promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this was harder than I expected. This was my first time trying to be serious while writing fluffy stuff, so I hope I don't disappoint. Maybe it might be shorter than some of you might desire, but I figured that it was better to leave what I have then to drag on everything. That out of the way, more below, so enjoy the story!

“We need to talk.”

For a minute or two, neither of us spoke, only looking at one another. Mordred’s expression became guarded, though I could detect no hints of hostility, at least, not yet. Wonder how long that would last. Finally, Mordred was the first one to break the silence.

“I’m fine.” I wanted to scoff at the blatant lie. Instead, I crossed my arms across my chest, staring back into her eyes. I wasn’t going to back down. Servant or not, friend or not, I needed Mordred to have her head in the game, unwilling to see another comrade dying. Never get the easy jobs, it seems.

“Gareth and Gaheris were your half-siblings, correct?” I said instead, figuring that might be a good way to start. At the time, the two names she shouted during her duel with Lancelot hadn’t registered with me. When we were making our way over to the abandoned fort, however, I recalled one of the various legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Of Gawain, his younger brothers Gareth and Gaheris, his older brother Agravain. The children of King Lot of Lothian, and Morgan le Fay.

Mordred hesitated for a few minutes, her resolve flickering for a moment before hardening once again. “Yeah, so?” She said a bit testily. I refused to display the flinch I felt inside. While I knew deep down that the Knight of Rebellion wouldn’t harm me, it was still a most unpleasant feeling

“Did you ever interact with them?” I asked, throwing Mordred off-guard. She grunted and looked towards the sun, frowning before she finally spoke again.

“…not too much. I didn’t find out about them being my half-siblings until later, after I had entered service with King Arthur,” she finally admitted. “But still…they were family…” she said a bit awkwardly. I nodded in response and in understanding, before speaking up once again.

“And so it still hurt to see them killed by Lancelot,” I tentatively summarized, getting a nod from the blonde knight even as she continued to look away from me. “There’s more to your anger at him beyond just that though, isn’t there?” Mordred stiffened at that, but thankfully didn’t lash out at me.

“You had to be there to truly understand,” Mordred said softly. “The king was perfect. Tristan thought that he didn’t understand human emotion, but in my eyes, the king _was_ perfect. To betray the king was unforgivable. The fact that his closest and most trusted of knights did such an act to him went beyond treason.” There it was again. The mixture of admiration and hatred for her father.

The contradiction bothered me greatly, and I was itching to ask her why. For someone who had tried to seize Arthur’s thrown, she rarely talked about how she would be king if she could make a wish with the Holy Grail if one ever fell into her hands. Perhaps her last summoning had been a cause, but she had said she would tell me about this Greater Holy Grail War when we returned to Chaldea, and so I would have to wait.

“I won’t ask you about your relationship with your father. That is something that only you should decide when and if you want to discuss it,” I said, receiving a relieved nod. I noted the various emotions that ran across her face at the mention of Arthur, further confirming my suspicions that she didn’t have only hatred for the king, or at least, not anymore.

“But you have seen something, haven’t you? My last Master saw something, but he never brought it up. It bothered him, though, just like I’ve seen it bothering you. What was it?” She asked gruffly, still gazing at the evening sky. I took a deep breath before finally delving into the matter of those accursed dreams that have been plaguing my sleep the past few nights.

“I’ve seen what your…mother…did to you.” Those words caused Mordred’s hackles to rise as she released her breath in a hiss. Unlike when it came to her father, there was no mistaking the loathing she felt for Morgan le Fay. A sensation I completely shared despite having never met her in person. I continue speaking. “I saw how she left you in the cold, and had you fight hordes of skeletons until you were battered and beaten into unconsciousness.” Mordred snorted in anger, though thankfully none of it was aimed at me.

“Yeah, real ‘mother of the year’ award stuff there, let me tell you,” she said bitterly. I could see that she was clenching her fists tightly, her knuckles turning white from the action. “Always going on about her stupid plans. Couldn’t believe it when I finally left,” she grumbled, before saying something else that I was unable to hear.

I felt the urge to give her a friendly hug, but I don’t act on it. At least for now, Mordred doesn’t strike me as a person that would appreciate that level on contact. Handshakes, fist bumps, resting a hand on a shoulder….those kinds of things seemed to be what she was most comfortable with. Would that change as we continued our mission? I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter right now.

”It wasn’t fair, and I am sorry you had to go through that. You probably grew up feeling that you were alone, and to trust no one,” I said, looking at the setting sun before us as I sensed Mordred tensing up next to me. I paused for a few seconds, finalizing the phrasing for my next sentence.

“I just want to let you know that that no longer has to be the case, unless you wish for that to remain unchanged. That I hope you can rely on me just as I rely on both you and your strength. Okay?” I asked. The Knight of Rebellion remained silent once more, still frowning slightly. Finally, she gazed at me with a questioning glare.

“Why?” I sighed softly, resisting the urge to shake my head at Mordred’s question.

“I told you this before, Mordred. We’re a team. Partners. Partners look out for one another,” I said, smiling earnestly at her, my hand still resting on her bare shoulder. “I’ve said, and hopefully shown, that I trust you. Now, I ask this of you: do you trust me?” For the next minute, Mordred merely stared into my eyes, her face expressionless. In the back of my mind, I felt a sense of panic. Did I push too hard too soon?

Shaking her head slightly with her eyes closed, Mordred lets out a soft chuckle of amusement before looking at me with her vibrant emerald eyes. “I think I do, Master. Thanks…for everything,” she added. I nodded at her simple words, a pleased smile on my face as I stood up, offering the knight a hand.

Mordred shrugged at the gesture and firmly gripped mine with her own, and I helped her to her feet. “Well, know that we’ve taken care of that, let’s go find out what the others have come up with.”

“Heh, you left Ritsuka and Shieldy down there all alone?” Mordred teased, and I raised an eyebrow at her. “Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said before I could inquire as to what the hell that was supposed to mean.

“Hopefully, Siegfried has been healed. Don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think it would be nice to finally be able to go onto the offensive once more,” I replied. Mordred laughed and slapped my back heartily in approval, the sound echoing as we descended into the fort together.

* * *

It didn’t take long to realize that any hopes of going onto the offensive come morning were in vain. I grimaced slightly at seeing Siegfried’s wound still present at his side. I was also met with solemn expressions from the others before they began to fill me in on what I had missed while talking upstairs with Mordred. Along with a plan that was not exactly to my liking, truth be told.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “Siegfried’s wounds need to be healed by a Servant who was a saint, I get that. But you want to split up the group?” I asked, looking at Marie, Mash, Jeanne, and Ritsuka in the eyes firmly.

“Want to? No,” Jeanne said softly. “Need to, though? Quite possibly.”

“Staying together as a group is safer, but unless we remove the curse on Siegfried, can’t defeat Fafnir. Splitting up would be a bit risky,” Marie admitted, not flinching from my gaze. “However, it would allow for more ground to be covered, and improve the chances of finding a saint.”

“This Jeanne Alter has summoned Fafnir. What if she summons more of the numerous infamous dragons of lore? We’re running low on time. We need to find someone who can heal Siegfried ASAP,” Chulainn chimed in, leaning against the shaft of his crimson spear. The other Servants nodded in agreement, even Mordred. I restrained myself from acting on the urge of hissing softly, instead chewing on the inside of my cheek softly for a minute or two before finally speaking once more.

“How many groups and how are we deciding who goes with which?” I asked resignedly. As much as I dislike the feeling this plan was giving me, it was a logical one. Ritsuka step forward a bit, and I looked at him as he answered my question.

“We’re splitting into two groups. Jeanne and Marie are going as a small search party, while the rest of us protect Siegfried and move to the next major settlement nearby, Thiers.” I grunted in acknowledgement. I looked at the map Ritsuka and the others had pulled up.

“That makes sense,” I admitted in an even tone. I felt proud at seeing Ritsuka coming up with a plan without needing my input. Again, as much as I disliked it on a personal basis, it was a good plan. “I assume we will be splitting up come morning?”

Ritsuka nodded with a sad expression, showing that he was as uncomfortable about this as I was. We both knew though that to save humanity, we would have to put aside our personal desires at times for the greater good.

“Very well then. Let’s see what was left behind and if there are any blankets or food that is edible before we set up camp.”

* * *

I woke up early, rubbing my forehead slightly. Once again, I had one of those damn dreams, but this time, it felt less cohesive. Less of a single moment but a collage of scenes. Mordred’s helmet and armor, becoming a Knight of the Round Table. Feelings of pride, awe, release…

I shake my head, looking around. It looked like Sasaki was on guard duty again, as he was the only Servant out of sight. He was probably guarding the front gate, something that Medea had mockingly suggested the Assassin should do when we had discussed who was going to take which watch for the night, and that Chulainn had grunted in amusement to the disapproval of my second Servant.

I looked at Mordred, seeing that she had fallen asleep sitting down with her back resting against the wall nearest Ritsuka and I. She still hadn’t re-summoned her armor, though the cool air inside the stone building wasn’t all the cold to have bothered the Servant, especially since she had one of the (thankfully clean) spare blankets we had found in the barracks of the fort over her body. She had a peaceful expression on her face. Good, it looks like my words last night had worked hopefully.

I walked quietly up the stairwell leading to the battlements, my sword in one hand and a discarded whetstone that I had found last night in the other. It was early morning, the sky colored a gentle pink as the sun began its daily ascent once more. I took a few minutes to enjoy the sight, before I walked over to the same spot I had found Mordred when we first arrived here, sitting down between two merlons, my feet dangling against the front of the wall as I unsheathed the sword.

I began to examine the blade, taking note of the various notches that were testament to the past few days of fighting, along with a few segments that looked to have started becoming dull. Placing the empty sheath to the side, I adjusted my grip on the whetstone as I began to work on the sword blade.

After a few minutes of silence that were only broken by the sound of stone against metal, I began humming. The tune was an old lullaby from my childhood, one I remembered my mother would use whenever I was frightened by an overhead thunderstorm.

Some people said that I had acquire my mother’s voice when it came to singing, making the few occasions that I sung aloud stunning. Of course, I wasn’t sure if that was true, and regardless of that fact, the occasions that I found myself in where I would want to sing had been virtually non-existent. I would, of course, hum, however.

A good thing too, as the lullaby I was humming was one where I had forgotten the exact words for. It was a song about a weary traveler finally finding his way home. The important part was that it was uplifting and calming at once, and I soon found myself lost in the action of sharpening my sword. The sound of footsteps behind me almost caused me to drop the sword, though I relaxed rather quickly when I heard a feminine voice calling my name softly.

“Jacob?” I briefly paused my humming, looking over my shoulder to see Jeanne staring at me with a curious expression. I nodded my head in greeting at her.

“Ah, good morning Jeanne,” I said before turning my head to look back at the blade, humming once more. I heard the Ruler walk closer, but she didn’t say anything, listening to my tune for a few minutes. I don’t say anything either, as I finish up taking care of my blade before I stop humming, gaining Jeanne’s attention.

“There’s more to your reason to not greet stay and talk with Gilles yesterday, wasn’t there?” I finally asked, putting my sword back into its sheath and placing it against the side once more.

“…Yes,” Jeanne admitted hesitantly. Someone please save me from blonde girls that have trouble admitting what’s bothering them in some form or another. At least this time I shouldn’t have to worry about having one’s ire directed at me like Mordred had done initially.

“You know what he became after your death,” I said, rather than asked. Her summoning might have been tainted, nor could she remember previous summonings, but so far, she hadn’t given any indication of the knowledge the fates of other Heroic Spirits. Again, Jeanne nodded.

“It mustn’t be easy, knowing that a man you respected went off the deep end over your death.

“If Gilles is ever summoned at Chaldea, think of it as God giving him a chance to redeem himself,” I offered. I wasn’t a religious man, but for Jeanne, it formed a huge part of who she was. A soft smile came to her lips as she nodded slowly, getting the idea I was trying to suggest. “You won’t be able to change what his fate will be once the timeline is fixed, but isn’t it better to have a chance to tell him that he shouldn’t blame himself for your death?” Jeanne didn’t answer the question, and silence reigned once more between us as I gazed at the blonde Ruler.

“Perhaps you are right,” she finally said hesitantly. That I might also be wrong wasn’t said but implied, but I took no offense, looking over at the horizon. Even from here, the faint traces of smoke indicated the burnt remains of Lyon. How many other settlements will our two parties come across before we assault Orléans, I find myself wondering.

“Promise me something,” I finally said, tightly gripping my weapon to the point my knuckles were white.

“Yes, Jacob?” She asked with a hint of confusion. I turned around slightly, staring into her eyes firmly.

“Promise me you and Marie will come back to us,” I simply said. “At the very least, that you will do all that you can to do so,” I added, trying to not sound demanding to someone who wasn’t truly my Servant. Jeanne’s cheeks pinked slightly as her eyes widened. Before she could get the wrong idea, or Marie somehow getting the idea to play matchmaker, I pushed on. “I’ve already seen enough death here. I wish to not have those that I know to join them.”

Jeanne nodded at those words, understanding now why I was asking for such a promise. “With God as my witness,” she said in a solemn voice, “I will do all that I can to ensure that Marie and I will rejoin you as soon as we can.” I nodded, knowing that she would be true to her word. Her religion was a key part of who she was, who she is. “I think I can hear the others starting to get up,” Jeanne said in a softer tone. I grunted as I stood back up.

“Then I guess it is time to start saying our goodbyes to one another, then, huh?” I said with a half-hearted smile, an expression the Maid of Orléans shared with me as we began to descend down the stairwell.

* * *

Breakfast was a quiet and somber affair. We hadn’t found any edible food, so we ate another bland, if healthy, breakfast. Before we knew it, it was almost time to spilt up and go in different directions. Trudging back outside, Marie closed her eyes before summoning her magnificent glass horse, which she mounted with breathtaking grace, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked at us. Her gaze focused on Amadeus, who was either unable or unwilling to look his friend in the eyes before she left.

“Amadeus,” Marie said gently, and the Caster looked up at her. “Please look after Ritsuka and the others.” Her friend nodded solemnly.

“To be honest, I’m nervous about leaving your side,” he said quietly. The Caster released a soft bark of humorless laughter before continuing. “Not that there’s a time when I’m _not_ nervous about you. But you can use your Noble Phantasm to escape, and Jeanne is a defense specialist. I’ll just have to hope for the best. Just be safe,” he asked, his words eerily like the ones I had spoken to Jeanne. Marie smiled with her typical cheer and energy.

“Oh! My heart beats thinking that you might propose to me again!” She teased playfully, causing her friend to blink before staring at her in confusion.

“Wait. Why would you bring that up now?” Why indeed? Mash gave out a startled gasp at the Rider’s words.

“Propose? What?” Roman, having listened in, quickly came to her rescue as he explained to her how the composer at the young age of six had proposed to Marie Antoinette, who was only one year older than him. I tuned out the conversation as Marie recounted the story to Mash, Ritsuka, and Jeanne, while I turned to Mordred.

“Well, at least this isn’t a depressing departure,” I commented softly, shrugging for added affect that caused the Knight of Rebellion to snicker in amusement.

“See you, Amadeus! I’m leaving now! When I come back, let me listen to your piano again!” Marie said excitedly, bouncing up and down slightly atop her mount. Mash turned to Jeanne, handing the Ruler her commlink.

“Let’s keep in contact with each other at regular intervals,” she suggested as Jeanne examined the wrist-borne device. “It’s a Chaldean communication device that allows for us to keep in touch via magical energy,” the Demi-Servant explained as she helped the Maid of Orléans strapping said device and giving a quick lesson on the basics for using it. Once she finished, Jeanne nodded in approval.

“Very well. I’ll hold on to it, then.”

“Take care,” Ritsuka said with a smile.

“Be careful,” I cautioned at the same time.

“Yes, thank you. Jacob, Ritsuka, everyone, please take care as well,” she said with a smile before climbing onto Marie’s mount, wrapping her arms around the smaller Servant’s waist to hold on. Despite her words yesterday about the glass horse being a one-seater only, Marie had meant it in the sense of being able to ride comfortably for a human or even a Demi-Servant. For a Servant, especially one like Jeanne who had borne her fair share of trials and tribulations, this wasn’t all that bad for the Ruler.

The two Servants gave a final wave of goodbye before Marie urged her horse forward, and the mount began to gallop off.

“Don’t worry, Master,” Mordred said, speaking loud enough that only I could hear her words. “Ruler is a tough girl. It’ll take more than a few Servants to bring her down.” I grunted in response before turning to Ritsuka.

“Let’s get going. Next stop, the town of Thiers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you guys think of the Mordred and Jacob bonding section? Did I push it too hard, went too weak...? Or did I do a good job? As I said, this is the first time I wrote a fluff scene that I was fully invested in making, so curious to see how it turned out.
> 
> Hmmm...looks like Jacob is having some trauma from poor Olga Marie Animusphere's death, huh?
> 
> As for the part with Jacob discussing Gilles with Jeanne, it is something that I came up with, because I felt that there was more to that when she hesistated both when Marie told the Ruler that he was in charge of the remains of the French army, and also when he tried to catch up to here last chapter. The whole 'it might endanger his position' aspect, while valid, felt a bit weak to me, but hey, that's my opinion.
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Seeing that I finally managed to complete the Final Singularity and was hit by the feels hardcore despite knowing roughly what was going to happen, today's Fate-related question is this: What was the most emotional moment for you in the Fate/Grand Order story?
> 
> Second question: What is the most ridiculous non-abridged anime you have ever watched?
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed another chapter, and thanks for reading! Looking forward to y'alls feedback and answers, and see you next time! Stay safe and healthy!


	20. In Search of a Saint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company make their way to Thiers, while Jeanne and Marie have a little chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, posting the twentieth chapter of this story on the twentieth day of a month. Not much to say before reading the story, so I hope y'all enjoy and see you at the end of the chapter!

We had been walking for about a half hour before Amadeus came to a sudden stop, bringing the rest of us to pausing as well. “Amadeus?” I asked in concern, my hand creeping towards the hilt of my newly sharpened sword. Did he sense any enemies? Seeing my reaction, the Caster shook his head, and we relaxed slightly.

“What I spoke about earlier with Marie was out of line. I wish to apologize for that,” he explained, referring to the whole scene about Marie telling us about his proposal to her int heir youth and his reaction to it. Next to me, Ritsuka cocked his head quizzically.

“Do you still love Marie?” He asked tentatively, having been more involved with the conversation than I had been. The composer shook his head slightly.

“Certainly not,” Amadeus admitted a bit blithely. “I have no more passion for her. She was just a special divergence in my fate. If I’d led a decent life, the divergence would’ve been that proposal. Like what you’d call the cornerstone of human history.” Amadeus waved his hands in the air for added effect as he continued speaking. “What choices would this man, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, have made to end up this way?”

I grunted in agreement. “Not a day goes by where hundreds of people ask themselves similar questions as to yours.” Amadeus nodded at me.

“I would offer my life to music, no matter what, and became a scum that abandons all human virtue,” he said, almost despairingly. “I will admit, though, that if there was anyone who could have changed that fate of mine, I think it would have been Marie,” he finished with a nostalgic smile. Now Mash had a question expression on her face, and she spoke up quietly.

“Amadeus, wouldn’t that mean that you love Marie?”

“OH, sure, I do love her. But I am not _in_ love with her anymore. Why, is that a problem?” The Caster asked with a grin. Mash hesitated as I started to bounce on the back of my heels, eager to get back on the move, but unwilling to sound rude and interrupt what seems to be a potentially enlightening conversation for the unbelievably innocent Demi-Servant. If I was reading Mordred’s body language and posture correctly as she stood next to me, she was having similar feelings as I.

“I don’t know,” Mash finally admitted. “Before, you said that we humans are filthy. Based on what you said, that means you think Marie is also filthy without exception.” Amadeus just shrugged.

“So what? I love anything filthy. Music is beautiful. We humans are filthy.” He paused and stared down at Mash, rubbing his chin with one clawed hand. “You weren’t aware of such differences? It’s just a matter of category, isn’t it?” Poor Mash’s confusion was only furthered by this.

“What?” She asked, blinking. “You said that humans only love beautiful things.” Ah, so you are taking things as they are said at face value, and not reading between the lines, Mash. Might wanna talk with Rits about fixing that little issue when we return to Chaldea. My musing caused me to miss out on Amadeus’s response, however, as Mash spoke up once more.

“Well, to me, that difference is too abstract,” Mash said in a nervous and apologetic tone. The German Caster hummed in brief thought.

“I guess I can’t make you understand it with words. You’ll understand someday,” he said as Mash looked down at her feet in disappointment. “After all, you’re going to continue your journey with Ritsuka, right? Then you’ll figure it out. When it comes to the topic of humanity, he is an ideal Senpai, as some might say!” He said in a jovial tone, and Mash perked back up, looking at her Master. Gee, glad to know that I’ve been left out. Or does everyone see me becoming the mother of our ‘band of misfits’?

“Y-Yes! I can completely understand the ‘ideal Senpai’ part!” On the bright side, Mash’s honest and energetic response did give me a form of amusement as my fellow Master spluttered in shock, cheeks flushing red.

“M-Mash!” He exclaimed, causing Mordred and I, along with Medea, to laugh at his reaction. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t get a chance to find out my friend’s response as I looked over my shoulder.

“We’ve got company!” I warned, and the relaxed atmosphere that had been present dissipates as weapons are drawn as I point at a group of a dozen of the werewolf-like beasts we had encountered in the forest near La Charité.

“Finally!” Mordred crowed excitedly. Yeah, she is definitely feeling better. A day she shows a distaste for battle is a day that I will be spending worrying about the Knight of Rebellion.

The battle was quick and without mercy. The animal-human hybrids were tough, but nowhere near the threat level of a Servant or a wyvern. Though, if one thinks about it, the main reasons wyverns are threats is only because of their numbers and abilities to fly. A badly injured foe managed to push past the line of Servants towards the end of the skirmish, but I dealt with it easily, calling out for Ritsuka to take some notes. All it took was a quick sidestep, then a cut to the Achilles’s tendon, and then a simple thrust into the back of the neck, and so ended the last of our ‘ambushers’.

I grunted as I pulled my sword out of the final beast-man, as I suppose would be better to refer to them. Can’t calm them werewolves anymore even if they look like them if they can run around in broad daylight.

“I think that’s the last of them,” I said as I started to sheath my sword.

“We’re done here,” Mash said in response, before looking over at the weakest member of our group. “Siegfried, are you alright?” She asked the frowning Saber. I suspected that it wasn’t a frown caused by pain, but rather one from being unable to fight.

“I’ve recovered enough to walk,” he reminded her. “I just can’t engage in combat. I’m going to be making trouble for you a little longer, no doubt. I’m sorry,” he said. Mordred scoffed, but I didn’t detect any real ire in her response. Nor did her fellow Saber react to it. My commlink went off and I activated it, displaying Roman once more.

“Find anything good?” I asked, and the acting director nodded excitedly.

 _“It looks like you won’t be encountering any more enemies. I’ll be keeping an eye on my readings and will let you guys know whenever a Servant signature appears,”_ He said. Well, that seemed to be rather fortuitous. Hopefully it wasn’t a trap, but I trusted Doctor Roman to have already taken that possibility into account.

“Okay, that sounds good to me. Thanks for the heads-up,” I said, before deactivating my link as we prepared to resume our trek to Thiers.

Hopefully Marie and Jeanne are having fun with their little ‘outing’.

* * *

Marie glanced over her shoulder, taking note of the admittedly scary expression (at least, if you asked her!) present on her new-found friend’s face. It had been present for the past hour or two since Jeanne and her had left the others.

“Jeanne, Jeanne,” she finally asked, unable to hide her concern. “You have a scary look on your face!” Jeanne was startled by the sudden addressal, her turquoise eyes wide and blinking in surprise.

“W-what?” Jeanne stammered, before an embarrassed blush that Marie felt was adorable appeared once more. “D-Do I look scary?” She added in concern. Marie slowed her mount to a trot, and then a pause, dismounting for a short break and gesturing at Jeanne to do the same. The Rider waited for her fellow Servant to steady herself after her own dismounted before she addressed Jeanne’s question.

“Not so much scary as…stern?” The Rider explained with a giggle as the saint’s blush refused to go away as Jeanne looked away a bit sheepishly.

“Well, I guess so,” Jeanne admitted. “I was doing some thinking.” Marie let out a soft sound of exclamation.

“You mean about the Dragon Witch?”

“Yes, among a few other things.” Oh? “From the day I was born I’ve received God’s revelations, and I just ran off without ever looking back. I became a Heroic Spirit after I died, and then was summoned as a Ruler. I accept this fact as part of the natural order of things.” Jeanne’s face scrunched up in confusion before she continued speaking. “I don’t understand anything the Dragon Witch Says, not a single word. I wonder…who that ‘me’ is,” Jeanne finally admitted. Marie gave the Ruler a brief hug, unable to suppress her soft giggle before taking a step back, smiling at her friend.

“Ah, you really are beautiful. Very, very, very beautiful,” she said in all earnestly. Jeanne looked away, looking adorable once again!

“D-don’t tease me,” Jeanne said in denial, causing the Rider to shake her head slightly, still beaming at her fellow Servant.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Marie said firmly, refusing to allow the modest saint to disagree. “If I were you…I would probably accept the things the ‘Dragon Witch’ says,” she added, causing her friend to look back at her with concern.

“…Marie?” Jeanne asked.

“Please hear me out. I don’t hate the people who executed me. It’s a fact I am 90% positive about. But that remaining 10%, or possibly even much smaller than that,” Marie said sadly, as a collection of young faces flashed through her mind that belonged to some of the most precious people in her life. “I hated those that killed my children. At least, just for a little bit,” she finally said with a sigh. Jeanne gasped softly, gazing at her with sympathy.

“They killed my son Charles, to hurt me. You should truly feel pity for him. So, if my version of the ‘Dragon Witch’ ever appears, I would probably think ‘oh, that’s the other me’, and accept the things she says. But that’s not the case for you, is it Jeanne? It’s something really great and beautiful. It’s not because you don’t want to get dirty, or don’t want to believe you are. Nor does that mean you lack something.” She smiled softly, titling her head slightly. “You like people, don’t you? People who try to move forward by groveling around. The unreasonable ones, the accusers.” Her blush finally faded away, Jeanne nodded slowly, causing Marie to feel her smile brighten once more.

“Yes. I do love them,” her friend admitted, before a look of understanding came to her. “Oh, I see, there’s no way I could hold a grudge against them…because I love them.

“ _Oui!_ That’s why France was saved by you. It’s okay, tell the Dragon Witch when you see her,” she urged, causing Jeanne to look at her in confusion once more. Agh, she didn’t explain her idea about that yet!

“Tell her?” Jeanne repeated. “Well, tell her what?”

“Say what you want to say out loud. Say, ‘You’re not me’, or maybe, ‘I don’t know you’,” she said, trying to sound like her friend when she was serious. TO her satisfaction, her actions caused the saint to smile, shaking her head in slight amusement at the impressions.

“Well, you’re right. Absolutely right,” Jeanne admitted. “I certainly…Oh, huh.....Know you, maybe?” Jeanne trailed off, rubbing her chin with one hand as she mumbled to herself softly. Marie tried not to frown. Drat, she’s looking stern again.

“You’re starting to look serious again,” Marie sighed. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t of any help?” Jeanne shook her head rapidly, and the sadness vanished as her spirits rose once more.

“Y-Yes. It was very helpful,” Jeanne said with an honest and thankful smile. “When I confront her next time, I’m sure I can tell her what I want to say,” the Maid of Orléans said determinedly. Marie nodded happily, pleased to see that her efforts had succeeded.

“Yes, you should be fine,” she said, as her eyes flickered over to the device strapped to Jeanne’s wrist. “Oh, I think it’s time to make our regular contact!”

“Right, let’s do that know.”

* * *

“Glad to hear that you haven’t run into any trouble yet. We ran into a small group of those werewolf wannabes earlier, but aside from that we’ve had little difficulties. Good luck, and we’ll be eagerly awaiting your next report,” I said to Jeanne over the commlink before turning it off. The others looked at me expectantly.

“Jeanne reports that she has encountered no hostile Servants or any other form of enemies,” I said, noting the relieved expressions on Ritsuka and Amadeus in particular at the news. “So, this is Thiers,” I said, looking ahead to the town before us.

The past hour or so was nice and quiet, especially after we dealt with those beast-men earlier. Ritsuka and I had had a quick break to eat, but aside from that nothing noteworthy had happened, and before we knew it, we had arrived at our destination. Amadeus nodded at me.

“Thiers…if I recall, it’s famous for its knives. So far it looks like it hasn’t been destroyed,” he observed cheerfully. Considering that two out of the three towns we had been to or near previously had been destroyed, it was extremely pleasant to see one intact.

“Doctor, any signs of Servants?” Ritsuka said, having contacted the Command Room in the meantime. I turned around and crossed my arms, eager to hear the results.

 _“Finishing up checking… All right, there are two Servants in Thiers. They don’t appear to be any you’ve encountered before, so that should be a good sign,”_ Doctor Roman reported in a cautious tone. _“We should make contact immedia-“_

We all looked towards the front of the town as a fiery column appeared. No one said anything, staring at it in disbelief.

I felt my eye twitch slightly as the column of fire faded away.

“…that was unexpected,” Mash said wearily. I took a deep breath as I looked around. While we weren’t close enough yet to hear anything, but it didn’t seem like the town was truly under attack. No wyverns circling overhead like reptilian vultures, no armies of the undead. Furthermore, the fire didn’t appear to spread, nor was there other patches of flame visible elsewhere in the city. Then I noticed Amadeus pressing his hands to his ears, eyes screwed shut as an expression of disgust appeared.

“This noise…I hate it!” The Caster groaned. “An unprecedented noise, the premonition of an unprecedented demon! Oh, Muses! Please show mercy! My body can’t stop trembling from fear.” Well, that’s certainly something.

“Well, we’re not going to find out what the hell just happened standing up here,” Mordred piped in, Clarent resting against her shoulder. Without waiting for a reply, she started sprinting towards the open gates, where the fire appeared to have come from. I followed close behind, the others at my heel.

It turns out my assumption of the town not being besieged was mostly accurate. As we passed through the tall wooden doors, I saw a small half-circle of the townsfolk staring in our direction with nervous expressions. Their gazes were aimed at us, thankfully. Instead, it was aimed at two small, young-looking girls who were glaring at one another. Considering how outlandish their outfits and appearances were for the local time period, it seemed like a good assumption that they were both the Servants Roman had detected, and the source of the fiery disturbance earlier. We came to a halt, and I focused on the conversation between the two girls.

“You!” The girl on the left shrieked at the other. She wore an outfit that made me think of a mixture of a maid and a popstar’s dress, complete with frills and left her upper arms and shoulders bare. She had dark blue eyes filled with anger, and bright pink hair. I blinked my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things when I noticed the more…unique characteristics of her body. She had long, pink nails, a pair of curled horns, and a dark, scale-coated tail trailing from her skirt.

“Ok, definitely a Servant,” I mumbled in shock to Mordred, who simply released a soft bark of laughter, no doubt amused at the expression of shock on my face as the girl continued screeching.

“You, you, you! You cheeky squirrel from the East!” She said, her voice reaching a pitch that was making me grit my teeth in discomfort as the other girl scoffed dismissively at the insult. She had long, light green hair, and wore a kimono. In one hand she clutched a Japanese-style folding fan that looked to be lacquered in gold. She had a set of white horn-like projections just above either side of the temple.

“Who’s the actual; cheeky one?” Girl Number Two said, laughing mockingly at the other. “Do you really think a failure like you can beat a true dragon like myself, Elisabeth?” Elisabeth? Wasn’t that the name Carmilla had said back at La Charité? But the two look nothing alike! ‘Elisabeth’s scowl deepened as she twirled a spear in her hands as she crouched down. The crowd opposite of us began to back away as the tension thickened in the air.

“Ughhhhhh! I’m so upset! I’ll deal with Carmilla later, you die first, you creepy stalker!” She said hatefully. The other girl shot this ‘Elisabeth’ girl an utterly offended look.

“I’m not a stalker,” she protested. “I’m a ‘devoted bodyguard who acts like a spy’.” So, an aggressive stalker. Please, don’t let it be that she’s the saint, I thought with a soft groan. “I, Kiyohime, am a woman who lives for love.”

“Your ‘love’ violates human rights!” Elisabeth shot back in disbelief, causing the self-proclaimed Kiyohime to narrow her eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it from a pervert with a fetish for blood torture. I imagine that you were doing…” she paused, apparently at a loss of words before she flicked her wrist at the demonic-looking girl. “as doing THAT. Weren’t you?” She said accusingly.

Weeeell….well, well, well. Took us less than three minutes of listening to this argument before we went to an eleven. At least someone was enjoying themselves, if Mordred’s poorly hidden laughter was anything.

For a brief moment, Elisabeth’s stance loosened slightly, as she blinked her eyes in confusion at Kiyohime’s accusation. “What’s ‘doing it’? What’s ‘doing that’? Don’t talk nonsense!” Now Kiyohime was the surprised looking one.

“What? Elisabeth, I didn’t know that you were-“ At that moment the green girl’s words had apparently clicked in Elisabeth’s mind, for her face turned a deep crimson as she shrieked in a mixture of dismay and disgust, shaking her head rapidly.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” She half-pleaded, half-demanded. “I’m going to KILL YOU!”

“You can’t kill me because I’ll kill you!”

“Enough! Stop right there!” Amadeus roared like I had never seen him do so before. Our other Servants backed away slightly from the scowling Caster as everyone paused what they were doing. “I can’t let the two of you go any further. What your doing is sacrilege against all voice and sound!”

“They’re not saints, are they?” Ritsuka asked nervously, eyeing the two girls. To his relief, and that of myself and Mash, Amadeus shook his head emphatically to the negative.

“No way! Religions would tumble if they’re saints!” Declared the composer. Mash stepped forward, clearing her throat as the two responsible for Amadeus’s ire appeared to be starting back up their shouting match.

“Hey, you two!” Cried out the Demi-Servant, valiantly trying to diffuse the situation. If nothing else, her actions did cause the two feuding Servants to look away from one another.

“Huh? What?” Elisabeth asked.

“I’m busy right mow. Come back the day before yesterday,” Kiyohime responded at the same time, rolling her eyes at a now awkward-looking Mash. The demonic Servant crossed her arms as best she could considering the spear she bore.

“Hmmph,” she huffed at Kiyohime. “You’ll no longer be busy soon. At least, until the next Holy Grail War that is!”

“Frilled-neck lizard,” Kiyohime seethed. Did she just fell back to the age-old tradition of name calling?

“Japanese rat snake!” Yes, apparently, they are.

“Mexican bearded lizard!”

“Sharp-nosed viper!” Elisabeth said, as the two had grown louder with each name-calling. Mash tried to shout over the two as they resumed their childish bickering.

“Okay, stop!” Mash shouted vainly. Amadeus was clutching his ears tightly once again in the meanwhile. “Ahhhh...” he gasped in pain. For his supernatural hearing he had mentioned possessing, this must have been hell incarnate for him, especially at this close a proximity. “My ear will rot…You scum…Oh, no, I’m forbidden to say that word. I promised Marie,” he grumbled before stiffening, gaze focused on Mash. “By the way, Mash…”

The Demi-Servant looked at the Caster with a mixture of dismay and irritation. The latter I cannot blame. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mordred would have to hold the two back to prevent them from eviscerating me, I would have slammed their skulls together by now. “What now?” She asked.

“To our great joy, enemies are coming,” Amadeus said, gesturing behind us. Sure enough, a small cloud of dust had appeared. “For the sake of my ears, let’s deal with them,” Amadeus said eagerly.

“Should we try to see if that would get those two to help?” Ritsuka asked as the two Servants continued their name-calling game.

“Black mamba!” Elizabeth shrieked.

“Japanese grass lizard!” Kiyohime roared in response.

“Forget them,” I growled, resisting the urge to throw my hands in the air at frustration. The world might be in danger of being destroyed, and yet not even that could prevent supposed ‘heroes’ from being petty. At least the ones accompanying Ritsuka and I were professional, so to speak.

I stepped back outside, Mordred right behind me as she bore her typical smirk. At least my Servant’s love for battle wouldn’t change, it seems. I gripped my sword as the cloud drew closer, and I could see tall, humanoid shapes. Looks like they might be more beast-men. At least it’s something kinda new, I suppose.

“Medea, Amadeus, you will assist Sasaki in guarding the gate. Mash, Mordred, Chulainn, you will be out front line. Siegfried, Ritsuka, keep an eye on the sky for any wyverns. Knowing our luck, they’re probably not too far away,” I barked, eyes narrowed, sword drawn.

“Time for another workout,” Mordred said to the right of me as she moved up with our sole Lancer and Demi-Servant of the group, while the other Servants made sounds of acknowledgement.

“We hold the line. We don’t let a single one of those bastards into the town. Let’s kick some ass!” I said, drawing my sword and pointing the tip towards the rapidly approaching enemy host.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys and gals think?
> 
> So I decided this time to include the scene between Marie and Jeanne from the game were they talked about stuff, because honestly it felt important. I was originally going to write it from Jeanne's perspective, but then decided it might be more fun to use Marie's. Totally has nothing to do with what happens to our lovely French duo soon.
> 
> Honestly, while I found Elisabeth and Kiyohime to have been a bit excessive in terms of including in the story, but honestly, I love their whole verbal catfighting. Plus, I think a certain dragon in our group won't take kindly to the upcoming actions of these two new dragons, lol.
> 
> Now for one of my favorite things, Question(s) of the Day! Here's the first one: What's your favorite Servant Class? This is including Alter Ego, Foreigner, and Moon Cancer as well as Ruler and Avenger.
> 
> As always, still taking story request ideas, and please feel free to drop a comment or leave feedback! Thank you for reading another chapter of this story, and I shall see y'all in the next chapter!


	21. A Dance of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After successfully defending Thiers, Jacob and Ritsuka deal with Elisabeth and Kiyohime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I did not expect to be posting a new chapter this quickly. Honestly, I was inspired though, and so it is and all lol. Hope you enjoy! Important stuff to be read below after story, so see you there!

I sighed with relief as the final bodies of the would-be invaders faded away. It must have been because of the Dragon Witch or one of her lackeys, considering how a flight of wyverns and approached in a formation. She must have somehow found out about the two Servants in Thiers, and decided to deal with them. Too bad for her plans then, I suppose.

The fight had certainly been interesting, especially once the wyverns had shown up. Our two Casters had done their best to re-create a World War II bombing raid response, short beams of magical energy quickly covering the air. Even Ritsuka had joined in, firing bursts of Gandr.

In the front, our three main powerhouses easily demolished the horde, and the fight was over in less than ten minutes, being entirely one-sided. That had felt kinda nice, actually, to have some easier victories and not running in the end.

“Looks like enemy assault has stopped,” Mash reported as the inhabitants who had been watching us towards the end of the battle began to holler out in praise and gratitude for our actions. Turning around, I gave them a sheepish wave but only caused the noise to continue as I focused on the two Servants that had sat out on the fight.

Kiyohime and Elisabeth were now standing nose-to-nose, growling at one another. “We can’t let those two fend for themselves, can we?” Mash asked wearily.

“I know I can’t!” Amadeus said in disgust, glaring at the duo “I’ve had it. I’m about to vomit. Yes, I’m leaving those people all to you,” the Caster said irritably, moving back towards the rear. Nearby Siegfried gave us a sad look, silently apologizing once again for being unable to assist. Apparently, the Saber had a habit of being hard on himself, it seems.

“We can’t leave them, if just for the fact that I suspect if they do start fighting, all those townsfolk are going to suffer,” I said with a weary sigh of my own. I opened my mouth when Ritsuka spoke up loudly.

“Both of you, knock it off!” He said, trying to sound confidant. To his credit, he didn’t flinch when the two girls turned to look at him in unison.

“Huh?”

“Did you just say something?” Elisabeth and Kiyohime asked my fellow Master respectively. Well, at least they’re no longer acting like feral she-beasts!

“Well, that you shouldn’t fi-“ Mash started to say in support of her Master/Senpai when the duo glared at her and Ritsuka.

“Back off, puppy!” The Lancer sneered, while the Berserker crossed her arms in disapproval.

“Recklessness and bravery aren’t the same. Are you stupid?”

“It’s a mammal, at least,” Ritsuka said, a bit awkwardly. Mash blinked at him, while I cupped my face slightly.

“M-Master?” She stammered. “Hey Master, aren’t you a little upset?” Whatever his words were meant to do, I doubt that they were meant to escalate the situation. Unfortunately, that was exactly what happened.

Elisabeth pointed her spear at us with a scowl. “Now I’m pissed,” she growled, while next to her Kiyohime nodded.

“You said it. You’ll regret your words from the bottom of Hell. Elisabeth, let’s get started!” I half-hoped that we hadn’t just witnessed the two Servants who just seconds ago couldn’t stand the presence of one another agree to team up.

“Fine! Just don’t get cocky just because you beat some wimpy wyverns,” she said, aiming that last part at us. “I’ll show you the terror that a Dragonkin can inflict!” Huh, so she is part dragon or something?

“Did they just team up?” Mash asked, stunned. I shrugged as I looked at her while the two Servants prepared to charge.

“It seems so. Hey, Mordred, those two claims they are dragons. Wanna show them the might of a Pendragon?” Mordred gave me one of the widest and toothiest grins I had yet seen grace her features as she readied Clarent.

“I like what you’re saying there, Master!” She responded with savage glee. The Knight of Rebellion walked forward briskly, while I stepped back a bit with the others. It seems that our audience had realized we were about to deal with those two pesky girls, and began to jeer at Elisabeth and Kiyohime. Well, at least they won’t be in the way.

“Mordred, just remember, try not to kill them please? We need to ask a few questions still, after all,” I called out to my Saber, who replied with a lazy thumbs up as her helmet enclosed her face once more

“Five hundred Yen says that it takes her five minutes,” Ritsuka whispered to me. I scoffed, crossing my arms as I watched Mordred. My, my, I didn’t expect Ritsuka to bet on a fight.

“I say two to three minutes.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

The two Servants she was about to fight against exchanged looks to one another before they focused on her, circling around slightly. One at a time or both at once, neither option concerned her. She was Mordred Pendragon, second only to King Arthur Pendragon!

The turquoise-clothed Berserker was the first to attack, spreading out her fan. It seems that she was the one responsible for the fire earlier, for bright orange flames were projected from it, forming an over-sized fan.

The Berserker yet out a battle cry as she swept her fan towards Mordred, and a wave of fire rushed towards her.

“Tch. Mana Burst!” Mordred grunted in annoyance, fi9nding the opening attack to be rather lack-luster in her opinion. Her body infused with energy, she leapt over the wall of fire, landing just in front of her first opponent.

The Berserker was only able to gasp in shock before she was bent over as Mordred slammed her right knee into the Servant’s stomach, forcing the air out of her lungs. If it wasn’t for her Master’s request, she would have sliced her open with Clarent, but in this case, knocking the breath and the fight out of her would do.

Before the knight could land a follow-up blow, however, a glint of metal that was growing closer had her leaping back slightly as the other loud-mouth brat thrusted forth with her spear. The instant Mordred’s feet connected with the ground, she was once more in motion, swinging Clarent in a downward overhead strike.

The Lancer’s eyes widened momentarily as she spun her spear around before delivering a counterstrike that saw the shaft of her weapon groaning under the weight of Clarent’s heavier mass. The knight leaned into the strike, trying to force the pink-haired brat to drop her spear. The smirk that suddenly appeared on the girl’s face threw her for a loop, but she ignored it. Unlike what she felt next, however.

Mordred grunted at the shoulder check the Berserker delivered from the side, however, having apparently recovered at least somewhat. She was sent skidding backwards, her sabatons drawing two shallow furrows along the ground, while Clarent made a third one after she stabbed the blade she had used to kill her father to slow her down.

“Cheap shot,” she grunted as she pulled Clarent out, flicking it to the side to rid it off the thin layer of dirt near the tip. It wasn’t like the two were real threats like that damn traitor or Martha had been, but that stupid handicap her Master had given her was making it harder for her.

Instead of lunging forth again, Mordred decided to switch tactics. She shifted her posture slightly, taking what some might have thought was a defensive stance. Her two opponents had a brief exchange of glances, before the Berserker gestured at the Knight of Rebellion. Her Lancer counterpart nodded slightly before dashing forward, seeking to impale Mordred.

Tch, as if she would allow for anyone to do such a thing to her ever again, especially if it wasn’t that damn holy lance!

Mordred didn’t move until the last second, twisting to the side while swinging Clarent down with all her might. Her blow struck true, slamming into the shaft just below the curiously-shaped tip. Said tip was forcibly buried into the ground as its wielder released a high-pitched yelp of dismay.

She eagerly silenced that noise with a follow-up strike that took the form of an elbow to the face. To the Lancer’s credit, she didn’t beg for mercy, or try running away. Her blue eyes glared at her with anger.

“Don’t think I’m out this yet!” Lancer shouted defiantly, leaping backwards into the air. Mordred cocked her head in puzzlement before her eyes widened slightly in understanding. Then her lips twitched upwards into a smirk, and she feigned ignorance until it was the right time.

The Lancer spun in the air slightly, trying to swipe at Mordred with her tail. Mordred didn’t flinch, instead bringing up her left gauntlet and blocking the lashing before grabbing it. The smaller Servant yelped in a mixture of shock and pain as Mordred began to spin around, building up speed as Kiyohime began to charge.

Perfect.

Waiting until the last moment, Mordred finally released her grip on Elisabeth’s tail, sending the annoying, shrieking Lancer flying into the oncoming Berserker, knocking her off of her feet and causing the two to become a tangled pile of limbs and tail.

Grinning underneath Secret of Pedigree, Mordred leapt forward, closing the gap between them once more. Taking advantage of the inability for the two to move, Mordred planted her feet onto the stomach of the brats, pinning them down as she held Clarent’s blade in one hand, the hilt in the other, bending down and causing the withering figures beneath her to pause as the blade hovered inches above their unprotected necks.

“Yield,” Mordred said to the pinned girls, pressing Clarent down against their throats as an added precaution. Considering what she had seen of their actions, the Knight of Rebellion didn’t agree with her Master’s orders, but she had agreed to trust him. If they tried to push their luck, she wouldn’t hesitate to slit their throats here and now, but she would give them a chance.

One chance.

“G-gah…” The Lancer gagged, before finally managing to speak actual words. “W-We g-gah-give,” the brat pleaded. Her frenemy (the modern vernacular truly was something) didn’t say anything, but nodded her head furiously, her cheeks reddened from exhaustion and probably the lack of air.

“Good choice,” Mordred said with a sneer, retracting Secret of Pedigree as she rested her sword against her shoulder. She turned to her Master with a pleased smirk.

“All yours, Master.”

* * *

“All yours, Master,” Mordred said triumphantly. I nodded my head in approval and began to walk forward, Mash and Ritsuka close behind as our audience finally started to go back to their daily lives, no longer interested in our activities, thank god.

“Good job, Mordred. You fought well,” I said with Ernest praise. To my surprise, Mordred’s cheeks reddened slightly, though it seemed to have been in pleasure of being praised.

“Eh, it was little more than a workout,” Mordred responded with her usually cockiness, trying to sound dismissive of the fight. I merely shook my head in amusement at her as the two defeated Servants finally started to stand back up once more.

“Y-you got me,” Kiyohime wheezed, rubbing her throat with one hand. “Oooooh,” She moaned in pain. Elisabeth wasn’t looking much better.

“N-not bad, you know…” She gasped, bruised and battered. “I’ll let you call it a day now…” she said before falling flat on her butt. Mash stepped forward, a stern expression on her face as she gazed at the two.

“Now that things have settled, I’d like to hear from you. Would you mind?” The defeated duo looked at Mash wearily.

“….What?”

“I’m a loser snake, in other words, you’re kicking a defeated snake when it’s down?” Kiyohime complained.

“Loser snake?” Mash repeated in confusion, before shaking her head. “Um, have you seen any other Servants besides yourselves?”

“Well, I’ve seen crazy Servants,” Elisabeth said, gesturing at Kiyohime. “Like this one.” Kiyohime glared at her frenemy(?), pouting slightly.

“Would you mind not lumping me in with them? I’m a Berserker with my reasoning intact,” Kiyohime retorted. Elisabeth rolled her eyes at the Berserker’s response.

“What’s your problem?” She whined, and Kiyohime’s glare intensified as Amadeus walked over to us once more, a sound of understanding escaping past his lips.

“Oh, now I remember. When I was alive, I saw them often. Catfights!” He scoffed in derision. “They were beyond loud. Just you wait, in time they’ll latch onto your head and make noises like ‘gyaggggegggo!’” Amadeus added, throwing his hands skywards for added effect. Elisabeth pouted at the Caster, still sitting down on the ground.

“I will not! But that’s called shamisen, right? Shamisen?” Oh, great. I think Mordred had knocked a few screws loose. Now they weren’t making any sense!

“Anyways!” Mash said loudly, refusing to allow the bickering girls to continue their verbal assaults once more. “You haven’t seen any Servants other than the ‘Dragon Witch’ or Carmilla’s group, right?” She asked, before sighing and looking at Ritsuka and I. “Master, Jacob Senpai….I fear that it looks like we’ve just wasted our time.” I shook my head at that.

“Not entirely. We prevented another town from being razed to the ground,” I chided the Demi-Servant politely.

“Yeah, but it is still a shame. It wasn’t exactly a party having to listen to those two go at it,” Ritsuka grumbled, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb at the aforementioned Servants.

“Elisabeth aside, treating me like that is a little bit rude, don’t you think?” Kiyohime asked us. Even if that wasn’t the best way to handle the situation earlier, it wasn’t exactly like either of the two dragon-girls had been shining paragons of manners.

“We’re looking for a saint. It’s a matter of great importance,” Ritsuka answered the Berserker. She blinked at him in interest.

“Oh. It takes guts to make that comeback,” she said in a thoughtful tone before shaking her head. “But in any case, a saint? I only know of one saint, if you mean someone whose teachings took root deep within this nation,” she said. I snapped out of my irritation, feeling a surge of hopeful excitement flood my body.

“Really?” Mash asked cautiously. Kiyohime nodded at the Demi-Servant.

“Yes. I met him before coming across Elisabeth.” Well, at least she had told us it was a guy, meaning it wasn’t going to be Jeanne d’Arc she had seen. “I almost fought him, but he realized I was a genuine Berserker and sheathed his sword. His True Name is Georgios. I believe he is quite a famous saint around here,” Kiyohime finished. I activated my commlink.

“Did you catch all that, Doctor Roman?” I asked.

 _“Yes! Georgios! Better known in England as Saint George. He would be perfect for this,”_ Roman said excitedly. _“Do you know where he went?”_ He asked Kiyohime. The Berserker look surprise at how we were communicating, but shrugged before answering.

“That’s the real shame. He went the opposite direction as me, to the west.” Not quite a shame then, seeing that was the same direction Jeanne and Marie had gone when we had split up this morning. I switched the channel I was on, with the intent of contacting the two Servants in question.

I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the link to be established. Finally, I heard the voice of my temporary Servant. “ _Jacob? Is everything ok?”_ She asked in concern.

“Yes, we arrived safely in Thiers. There was an enemy host that tried to attack the town, but we defeated it. We didn’t find a saint Servant, but we did find out that there was one who had gone west, in your direction,” I said rapidly. “Also, you and Marie are doing well still?” I asked, being rewarded with a soft sound of laughter.

 _“Yes, we are fine. We arrived at a small town,”_ was Jeanne’s response. _“We detected a Servant over here as well. I’m about to make contact right now.”_

“Good. Hopefully it is our mysterious saint. Good luck. Our meetup point is Thiers. Jacob, out,” I said before ending the connection.

“Jeanne and Marie found a Servant,” I repeated, louder. “They are also safe,” I said, the second part intended almost solely for the sake of Amadeus. The composer’s body relaxed slightly. “The plan is for them to make contact, and if it is a saint, possibly even Georgios, to return with our saint in tow to Thiers. Hopefully they will be here by nightfall. Does this plan sound ok to you all?” I asked, gazing at the others. Seeing no sign of disagreement, I turned to Ritsuka.

“We should start making a camp. I am sure that the citizens of Thiers would be happy to accommodate us after everything we did for them, but I don’t want to push my luck when Jeanne arrives, and someone recognizes her. Saviors or not, I doubt we would be welcomed to stay in town for much longer once that happens.”

“That makes sense,” Ritsuka said in agreement. “I don’t suppose we could go visit the market and see if they have any good food available?” He asked hopefully. I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“I think that would be fine. Honestly, it’ll be nice to have something other than emergency field rations. Do you want to come along, Mordred?” I said, turning to my first Servant. The Knight of Rebellion simply shrugged in response.

“Eh, not like there’s a fight going on or anything. Might as well see if they have anything decent to eat,” she said casually. With that said, the four of us walked into Thiers.

It was honestly uplifting to see the townsfolk going about their day. It meant they were alive. The fact that we had helped maintain that state further helped in reducing the burden of witnessing such devastation like Lyon or La Charité. After some haggling, I was able to procure a generous slice of beef from a butcher. The eyes of Ritsuka, Mordred, and Mash all lit up at the sight and smell of the fresh meat.

Another stall yielded some fresh vegetables, and soon we were back at the camp. Kiyohime and Elisabeth sat silently with the other Servants, as they had been when we left an hour or so ago. Seeing no reason to request their departure now that they had stopped their aggravating fighting and were silent. Better they be bystanders than more enemies, after all.

Chulainn grinned at seeing the fresh food, which was actually enough for all of us, and had offered to cook the meat, an offer I happily accepted. I sat on the ground near the Lancer, watching eagerly in the hopes of picking up some lessons on how to cook in these situations should I ever be in the position of having to do so on my own. Mordred and Siegfried were in the middle of a quiet discussion, perhaps about their shared War they had been summoned in?

I had lost track of time when Mash’s cry of alarm shattered the air of serenity that had developed.

“Jacob Senpai! We’ve lost contact with Marie and Jeanne! Last thing we heard, Jeanne reported she was under attack!”

“What?!? Damn it!” I snarled, my good mood torn to ribbons. The other Servants stopped what they were doing, looking at Ritsuka and I, awaiting our orders. Damn, damn, damn, damn it!

“We have to wait here,” Ritsuka said glumly. I clenched my fists and looked westward. Damn it all to hell.

“We wait until dawn. If we haven’t heard word, or Jeanne and Marie don’t arrive by nightfall, we go westward. Until then, we must wait here,” I said grimly, gritting my teeth.

Please, come back to us alive, Jeanne and Marie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Hope you enjoyed seeing a fight from Mordred's perspective! It was honestly fun for me, and it felt like it would be refreshing to see a Servant battle from a point of view other than Jacob's. As for Elisabeth's and Kiyohime's performance, I personally felt that the two Servants are some of the more weaker ones typically, and so that's why it wasn't as much a challenge. Do you agree or disagree?
> 
> As for important news, this might be a slight spoiler. I was originally going to write the scene between Sanson and Marie, but after refreshing my memory, I find myself unable to do so because of the sexual manners Sanson injects into the conversation. While I could replace it, I feel that it would detract from the scene, but again, I can't write that dialogue do to personal discomfort. I hope you, my wonderful readers, can understand and forgive me for that, but as the writer I do have the right to maintain my personal zone of comfort with what I do with this story.
> 
> Now that is out of the way, I just realized that we're about two/thirds of the way done with the Orleans Singularity! What has been your favorite part that I have written so far?
> 
> Now for the question(s) of the day: Do you think that the Assassins of the first singularity were especially creepy? Carmilla's blood, Phantom's whole aspect, and Sanson with the aforementioned issue...
> 
> Second question: Of the Servants we currently know about in the nauverse, which do you find to be the most bizarre?
> 
> Thank you as always for reading another chapter, and I look forward to reading the feedback and responses! Have a great day, and see you in the next chapter!


	22. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company react to Jeanne's news upon her return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Waiting for Jeanne and Marie to return had to have been one of the most painful experiences since witnessing the death of Director Animusphere. I hated this sense of helplessness, no matter the circumstances.

Mash kept trying to regain contact with Jeanne, but so far, her efforts had been futile. Ritsuka kept himself close by to keep the Demi-Servant from getting frustrated. Most of the other Servants were also antsy in their own ways. Even Doctor Roman was silent, save for the occasional report about any Servant signatures approaching the town.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

In an attempt to pass the time, we had the dinner Chulainn had been preparing, but the food tasted like ash in our mouths, and we only continued eating in order to sate our hunger. Finally, I was about to give up hope for the survival of Jeanne and Marie when suddenly a voice called out in the evening air.

“Master, look!” Mordred called out, and I did so. Two figures on a horse were approaching rapidly.

“Mash,” Jeanne called out in relief, leaping out of the saddle and running over to us.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mash said in pure relief. “And who is-“ She started to ask before the armored man spoke up.

“My name is Georgios.” Ah, so we had found our saint. While that’s great, someone was missing. A certain energetic and cheerful bundle of positivity. I was about to ask when Amadeus beats me to the point.

“Where’s Marie?” Amadeus asked bluntly. He looked solemn and resigned, as if he already knew and had accepted the answer, I feared we were about to hear. Sure enough, Jeanne’s expression fell, and my heart sank.

“Marie is…” Jeanne started to say, choking briefly in sadness. “She sacrificed herself to save both us and the townsfolk Georgios had been protecting. I’m so sorry, Jacob. And to you, Amadeus,” she said as we all turned to gauge the reaction of Marie’s companion.

“I see,” he said in an emotionless tone. “That’s what she said when she stayed behind?” He asked Jeanne for confirmation, which she gave in a slight nod. The Caster took a deep breath before exhaling in a long sigh. “Oh well, it can’t be helped. You don’t have to feel bad. Even if we were all there, she would’ve done the same thing. Marie is an eternal philanthropist. That’s how she lives and dies,” he said with a smile, though that looked rather brittle to me. “But never mind that, why don’t the two of you reverse Siegfried’s curse?”

“R-Right,” Jeanne said a bit awkwardly, unsure of how to react to what the composer had just said. The two saints walked over to the wounded Saber and began to get to work on whatever it was they were going to do to restore Siegfried. Mash looked at the fallen Rider’s friend in worry.

“Amadeus…” She started to say softly before the Servant in question raised a hand slightly, politely silencing the Demi-Servant/

“It’s all right, I knew this was going to happen. Remember how Marie was talking about the piano?” He paused as Ritsuka, Mash, and I all nodded. The other Servants had spread out in a loose, protective circle, though Mordred stayed the closest, watching me silently. “See, that was her way of saying goodbye. It never happened when we were alive. If she’d said to me, ‘Let me hear your piano,’ I couldn’t have stopped her. But, the second farewell hits hard. Worse than the first. All the more as we’ll never meet again,” Amadeus continued, his tone becoming bitter despite the smile he had forced to display.

“If you are Heroic Spirits, wouldn’t there be a chance to see each other again?” Mash asked naïvely. “Like with what happened here, you may be called to the same battlefield…” She stopped as Amadeus shook his head.

“Mm, that won’t happen, I think? There are as many Heroic Spirits as the stars. How I came across her this time was already a miracle. Though, a whimsical Master might change things a bit,” he mused, the last part more for his own benefit. Forcing his smile on display, Amadeus turned to the city. “Anyways, I’m a bit tired. I’m going to excuse myself, maybe see if I can find a drink. Call for me when you’re ready to leave,” he said as he began walking away, not bothering to wait for an answer.

Mash tried to call out his name, but Ritsuka gently griped her right shoulder.

“Stop, Mash,” He said softly as I walked over. Mash looked at my fellow Master with concern.

“Master, but-“ she started to say before Elisabeth spoke up.

“It’s fine. Everyone has moments when they want to be alone.” I nodded in appreciation at the Lancer’s statement.

“She’s right. Everyone deals with grief differently. Some drown themselves in alcohol. Some throw themselves into the jaws of death. Some fall into a rage that can’t be quenched with anything but vengeance. And some prefer to spend some time alone. Let Amadeus grieve,” I said softly. Come to think of it, we didn’t really properly mourn the loss of so many lives from the actions of Lev.

“Very well. Now that’s aside,” Mash started to say, gazing critically at Elisabeth and Kiyohime. “Why are _you_ here?” The two Servants we had defeated only a few hours ago looked at one another, shrugged, and then looked back at Mash.

“It’s fine, isn’t it?” The Lancer spoke first in a nonchalant tone, and the Berserker beside her nodded as she chimed in.

“You don’t approve of us being here? We’re willing to assist you in combat,” Kiyohime said plainly, looking more at Ritsuka than the Demi-Servant though. Mash tilted her head slightly, looking at the duo cautiously.

“Well, that is _something_ to be thankful for, but…” Mash’s voice trailed off, noticing the Berserker’s lack of interest in her response. Instead, the female Servant stepped closer to Ritsuka with an appraising look in her golden eyes.

“By the way, Master,” she began to say, startling Ritsuka.

“ _ME_?” He asked, pointing at himself. Kiyohime nodded, staring intently at the Japanese youth.

“Of course, you. Though temporary, can you enter a contract with me?” She asked with a smile, extending a pinky finger. “Yes, sticking out your pinky is enough,” Kiyohime said encouragingly as Ritsuka began to copy her action. She locked her pinky around his.

Wow, how childish was this Servant?

“This is a pinky promise,” she explained to a puzzled Ritsuka. “IF you lie, I’ll make you swallow a thousand needles..” she warned, the threat completely contrasting the supposedly-adorable smile she was giving my fellow Master.

Ok, scratch that. How _insane_ was Kiyohime?!?

“This completes the contract!” Kiyohime said pleasantly, lowering her hand while Ritsuka backed away rather rapidly to stand next to Mash. The Shielder adopted a somewhat protective stance, undoubtedly because of the Berserker’s threat. “Just so you know, I really will make you swallow a thousand needles if you lie. Is that clear?” Ritsuka’s head bobbed up and down frantically. “Good. Please take care of me from now on.”

Poor Rits. I honestly felt bad for the guy. Not bad enough to intervene, mind you, but still. At least it was a distraction from the absence of someone who had charmed her way into everyone’s hearts. Ana absence everyone, even Mordred, was showing.

“Master, Jacob Senpai,” Mash called out, and I turned towards the youngest member of our trio (when Mordred’s excluded that is). “It looks like Jeanne and Georgios have succeeded in lifting Siegfried’s curse!” the Demi-Servant reported. I made my way over to the group as Siegfried began to rise up onto his feet, the horrid-looking wound at his side absent.

“Okay, you will be fine from now on. This would probably have been impossible on my own,” Jeanne admitted, before looking away. “It’s all thanks to Marie,” Jeanne continued after a brief, pregnant pause. “We were able to survive because of her. What she risked her life protecting is something I want to protect too.” Jeanne raised her head, and stared at Ritsuka and I sternly, and I could sense an iron will behind her words. “This era, this world, this country. To do so, we must defeat the Dragon Witch and the dragon, once and for all.”

“The latter task is one that I can now assist in. I apologize for the delay, Jacob and Ritsuka. No, Masters…That is the more correct way to put it. I appreciate all of your efforts from the bottom of my heart. I shall entrust my sword to you. This body will be my Masters’ sword and shield,” declared the male Saber, standing at his full height. “My True Name is Siegfried. I have no other skill than slaying dragons, but I’d be honored to be put to use.”

Ritsuka looked towards me, indicating a desire for me to take the lead role this time. I nodded my head subtly towards him before looking intently at the Saber. “I am Jacob Aronson, and I look forward to seeing you display them in defeating Fafnir.”

 _“All right, now we have ourselves a team!”_ Doctor Roman interjected, sounding excited. While my own is tempered by the loss of Marie, I could relate. Finally, we could go on the offensive. Finally, we could be the ones acting, and not merely reacting to the circumstances forced upon us.

“Let’s take down that dragon and liberate Orléans,” I said.

“About damn time!” Mordred said eagerly.

“Hmph, I wouldn’t mind helping you out with that, little Puppies,” Elisabeth said, trying to affect a bored mannerism. Kiyohime rolled her eyes at her frenemy. Apparently Ritsuka and I were puppies now. Somehow, I’m fine with this. Not happy, but it’s still better than being the object of affection from a certain dragon Berserker nearby.

“My, my, Elisabeth,” the Berserker said mischievously. “Calling my _Love_ a _Puppy_ is an insult.”

The Lancer rolled her eyes at Kiyohime. Did you just make a ridiculous word change?” She asked with a sigh. “Well, I don’t care. I’m not a cheap dragon. I will meet an extra-special Master someday!” God help whoever that soul is.

“Oh, so the horns on your head aren’t the only things twisted. Seeking an impossible dream,” Kiyohime said, shaking her head sadly. “Is your head okay?”

“It’s not an impossible dream!” Elisabeth shot back with a scowl. “It’s conviction! I’m convinced of it! I’ll someday meet a Master that is to my liking and who will love me!” That was rather adorable and sweet, especially for a girl some might consider to look rather demonic.

“Yes, yes, in your head it’s another cloudless day,” Kiyohime said, waving a hand dismissively, teasing the Lancer no doubt. I coughed politely, before the two new members of our group could continue their little…’discussion’ again.

“So, it is agreed. Come first light we march on Orléans. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to look around the city, see what else there might be. The rest of you should take care of anything you want or need to tonight,” I said a bit vaguely. I needed to release some frustration over the sad news Jeanne had brought to us.

* * *

The evening sky had darkened as I continued to hack and slash at a straw-filled dummy used to practice sword drills. It was my fourth or fifth one, its predecessors lying around me, having been slashed one time too many to contain the straw filling.

Behind me, Mordred kept watch, warning would-be gawkers to stay away, and thus leaving me to focus solely on my releasing my grief over today’s loss. Thankfully, after a little discussion with the commander of the town’s garrison, I had been given access to the drill square for the night. Apparently, at least in this time, saving the lives of an entire town could give someone a lot of leeway.

With a savage swing that displayed absolutely no technique, but pure brute strength, I sliced open the middle of my ‘opponent’, and straw spilt out like internal organs. I planted my sword into the ground, and leaned against it, breathing deeply, my face flush and sweaty from my exertion even with the cool night breeze. I heard the soft clinking of armor, but I don’t turn around, trusting the Knight of Rebellion to handle it.

“He’s not in a good mood, Ruler,” Mordred warned, revealing the presence of Jeanne. I had wondered when my temporary Servant would build up the confidence to talk to me one-on-one.

“Be that as it may, I must talk with him,” I heard Jeanne respond softly.

“It’s fine, Mordred,” I called out, catching my second wind as I turned around, leaving my sword embedded in the earth. The Saber stared intently at the Maid of Orléans, before stepping aside, and the slightly taller blonde walked towards me.

“I’m sorry for not keeping to the promise form this morning,” Jeanne finally said softly, standing a few feet away from me. Did she think I was upset at her? I shook my head before speaking.

“I’m not mad at either Marie or you. Marie died a hero, worthy of a Heroic Spirit. I will miss her, and hopefully someday we can all be reunited at Chaldea, solving other singularities together, but she stayed true to who she was.” Jeanne stared at me expectantly, and I continued. “Doctor Roman is the acting director for Chaldea. Director Olga Marie Animusphere was the last confirmed director. During our first Rayshift, due to a series of events caused by treachery, the director ended up loosing her life. Ritsuka and I watched helplessly as her supposed friend and mentor gifted her the ‘treat’ of experiencing an unending cycle of dying.” I paused, my hands clenching into fists tightly at my side as I remembered the sobbing screams. Jeanne, as well as Mordred, watched me with clear concern.

“we…we just watched it happen,” I finally said, forcing myself to unclench my fists. “It is a moment that I will never forget, nor forgive myself. Maybe one day, once the timeline has been fixed, Chaldea can find a way to undo what that bastard did to Director Animusphere, and allow her to depart in peace once and for all,” I said wistfully, gazing up at the handful of stars that had begun appearing overhead.

“You wanted to do your best to not let another teammate down, to die, didn’t you?” Jeanne asked with a look of understanding. I nodded a bit sheepishly, feeling that it made me sound immature, foolish.

“Maybe it was foolish of me. This is a war, and war cannot be won without loss,” I said with a sigh. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try my best to limit the loss of friends and comrades. I am sure you can understand that,” I said, to which Jeanne nodded.

“Jacob.” Jeanne paused, shaking her head. “No, Master. Right now, I am a powerless Servant, but I wish to protect this world. Please, fight with me,” She said. I grinned slightly, shaking my head in amusement

“Of course. This is our duty,” I said softly, sheathing my sword. My reward was a heartwarming, sincere smile from the blonde saint.

“Thank you so much!” She said, looking pleased. She then quickly made an excuse to depart, and did so with a bounce to her step. I had a feeling that perhaps my answers tonight had helped eased the burden she carried over having to leave Marie behind, regardless of whether the Rider had told the saint to do so or not. There was a soft shifting of metal as Mordred walked over, arms crossed against her breastplate, a calculating look in her eyes as she gazed at me.

“Are you okay, Master?” Mordred finally asked, walking over. I hummed softly.

“Yeah. I just need to get a good night’s rest. Let’s get back to camp,” I said, and my Servant nodded, her posture relaxing now that I had worked off my frustration.

“Good. We need to keep both our heads in the game, after all, and not just mine, Master.”

* * *

“Gilles!” Jeanne Alter roared, storming into the main hall. She was scowling, her gauntlet-covered holding her banner in a death grip. “Are you here?” She demanded. No sooner had her last syllable left her lips then the Caster she would consider to be the closest thing she had to a friend appeared.

“Yes, right here!” Gilles said eagerly. Good. She wasn’t in the mood to track down the Caster.

“Marie Antoinette has perished, but what about Sanson?” After her final confrontation with the annoying Rider, she had a wyvern take the unconscious Sanson back to Orléans for Gilles to inspect. Phantom, Martha, and Lancelot were already defeated, but she had plenty of other Servants at her disposal.

“I was treating him when you arrived. His mind apparently perished with her,” Gilles informed her dutifully. “All we can do is to keep his Spiritron Shell intact, and use him as a foot soldier.” Jeanne Alter mulled over this latest development for a few minutes, standing silently as she relaxed her grip ever so slightly.

“I see,” the fallen Ruler finally said. “Georgios escaped from that town,” she said, scowling angrily. “Had Marie not sacrificed herself to buy time, our plan would have worked!” Alter seethed at the setback. Everything had been going perfectly according to plan, until that damn mouse and his friends showed up. She should have burned him at La Charité the moment he stood up to her.

“I see,” Gilles said, his face turning thoughtful, and still somehow looking ridiculous thanks to his inability to get his eyes to focus in a single direction. “The enemy ranks lost one, but also gained another.”

“Yes. We still have the advantage, but they are becoming more and more of a damn nuisance by the hour. Continue searching for the-“ Before she could finish giving out her latest set of orders, another Servant walked into the room, an excited gleam in their eyes.

“It looks like that won’t be necessary,” Berserker Saber informed their Master.

“What do you mean? I thought I ordered you to search the southeastern region.” Her curiosity was further piqued as Berserker Saber shook their head emphatically.

“There’s no longer any need, Master. They’re heading straight for Orléans. They should arrive around noon tomorrow. It looks like it’s a final showdown they want,” the corrupted Saber said viciously, a bloodthirsty smile on their lips. “Don’t you want the same thing?”

“…So, they’ve stopped running around, have they? I imagine that’s because they think they have a shot at winning now,” Jeanne Alter muttered. Berserker Saber shrugged.

“I suppose they do,” they said with a lazy wave of their hand. “They have a fair number of Servants as well. Considering we have dragons on our side, this will surely be a glorious fight!” Upon hearing those words, the Dragon Witch smirked cruelly at her Servant.

“You’re enjoying yourself, huh?” She asked.

“Of course! As you know, I’m not right in the head. I’ll be just as happy wiping them out as I would being wiped out by them,” Berserker Saber said without an ounce of hesitation in their tone. A look of longing, of need, appeared alongside the already-present excitement they had shown. “Go on, order me, my Master,” they begged. Jeanne Alter was more than happy to oblige their request.

“Gather the others and prepare for the final battle. Gilles, prepare the final summons,” the fallen saint commanded of her minions.

“Understood. I shall gather all of the dragons who have yet been slain,” the twisted Caster said, bowing deeply before leaving, Berserker Saber close behind, leaving Jeanne Alter alone with her thoughts.

“If we win, this word will be destroyed. Even if we lose, though, it will make no difference. The world is long gone. Even if they correct this place, an endless journey lies ahead,” she said aloud, her words echoing softly off the walls. She scowled once more. “And yet, and yet, they have faith in the world…those people and ‘me’,” she said in contempt.

“In that case, I shall smite them. I won’t let them reconnect this world. This is my wish, and Gilles’ wish.” For the second time since her resurrection, her confidence, her determination, faltered for a moment. “Yes…that should be my wish…” she said softly to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? Not much to say, other then that I wanted to address the whole lingering trauma about Director Animusphere's death had on Jacob. I'm not turning him into a Shirou Emiya, with the whole becoming a hero of justice shtick. Rather, he is focused on trying to save as many of those he will fight alongside as possible, which honestly feels more realistic and all ya know? Also, interesting side note, but when I first began this story/series, I hadn't itneded for Jacob to become the sorta big brother figure that I feel he is now, but what do y'all think of his dynamic in the group, his role so to speak? Like in my mind, he is the mind, Ritsuka and Mash are kind alike the soul, and Mordred is the strength or something lol.
> 
> Also, damn this week has seen me being inspirational for writing, huh?
> 
> Also, looks like Jeanne Alter is starting to have her own doubts, and the stage is set for wrapping up the First Singularity!
> 
> Now, a slightly different question fo the day: For the following Servants, which genre of music do you think they would like the most: Jeanne d'Arc, Jeanne Alter, Mordred, Elisabeth, Chulainn, Sasaki, and Blackbeard?
> 
> As always, I eagerly await feedback and replies. Hope you enjoyed another chapter of Will to Fight. Thanks for reading, and see you next time!


	23. Battle of Orleans, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company begin the march on Orleans, and encounter a Servant familiar with Mordred and Jeanne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I accidently posted this chapter for a brief moment in the SummerFes story....whoops! At least it is all fixed now lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy part one of the three (or possibly four) part finale of Orleans!

For the first time since we arrived, I slept peacefully that night. No dreams or haunting memories, only blissful slumber. When I awoke, I felt ready, ready for the daunting task we were about to embark upon: attacking Orléans.

Nearby, I saw that Ritsuka was also waking up. “Good morning Rits,” I said softly, getting a sleepy ‘hi’ in response from my fellow Master. I stood up and stretched, seeing that our Servants were getting ready as well.

There was a mixture of emotions in the air. Excitement, fear, nervousness, determination.

And why shouldn’t there be? After all, we were about to embark on the final leg of our journey. One that we must ensure ended in victory, no matter the cost.

Breakfast was quiet, and a part of me felt like it was like a last supper. In a way, I suppose, it was, at least for some of us. Whether we won or lost, Jeanne and the others whom we had met on this journey would return to the Throne of Heroes at the end of this day. It was a sobering thought, though there was still a chance that some or even all of them could be summoned back at Chaldea, and preferably with the memories of these past few days, too. An hour later, and Ritsuka, Mash, and I were packing up our small campsite, our breakfast finished.

Another visit to the town’s mayor had seen him outfitting our party with horses after I explained how we needed to get to Orléans quickly, as we had the only way to fix everything. The clear desperation in the man’s eyes was heartrending, even if it allowed for us to gain a faster method of transportation that wouldn’t exhaust our Servants before our inevitable battle with Jeanne Alter and the forces she could muster.

Thirty minutes later, and we were all saddled up. On the walls were throngs of citizens of Thiers, cheering and waving at us. Apparently, the mayor had spread word about what I had told him, and the locals wanted to wish their ‘heroes’ off. Ritsuka and Mash looked the most uncomfortable with the attention, while Elisabeth seemed to relish in it. I cleared my throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Today, we march on Orléans. I can think of no finer colleagues to fight alongside. We fight for not the Holy Grail, but for humanity’s survival,” I said, trying to be as charismatic as I could be. After all, the stories all told of a speech before the final battle, didn’t they? “Do your duties, and look after one another. To victory!” The others repeated the claim, minus for the quieter Servants, like Medea, or more battle-hardened Servants, such as Jeanne, Chulainn, and Mordred. Though, as always, the latter had an excited gleam. Well, she’s always going on about wanting to have a challenge.

Who am I to deny my Servant such a simple desire?

“Forward!” I said, and the crowd watching us roared louder as we spurred our mounts forward, making all due haste to the lair of the Dragon Witch.

* * *

The first two hours were quiet. Too quiet. The enemy must know of our movements, not that it could have been helped. But still, what choice did we have but to push forward? I will admit, however, that it was a welcome release when I heard an irritatingly familiar roar far above us. I gripped my sword briefly, but didn’t draw it, instead pointing skywards, shouting to grab the attention of the others.

“Here they come! Take them down!” I roared, sweeping my hand before the diving squadron of wyverns. Taking bold actions, I raised my other hand and began to fire bursts of Gandr, an action I was copying from my fellow Master the previous day and who was repeating it. The two Casters of our group added to the improvised AA fire, and in those opening moments, several wyverns fell towards the ground, their wings cut or severed.

Still a dozen and a half or so wyverns were almost upon us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sasaki stand up onto the back of his horse, his sword gripped tightly as he assumed the posture that indicated that he was about to unleash his Noble Phantasm. Sure enough, a wyvern unfortunate enough to have moved into his range was carved up into three bloody slices.

Towards the rear, Chulainn adjusted his grip on Gàe Bolg, moving the seven-blade spear into an overhand position before throwing it at a wyvern. The cursed weapon pierced the scaley breast of the beast, and its dying bloody tumbled over the ground. The Lancer deftly picked up his weapon from the dissolving corpse as he urged his mount past it, his red eyes already searching for his next target.

Another wyvern swooped down at me, but before it could attack me, the blade of a large broadsword whistled through the air near me, and the wyvern’s head was parted from its now-twitching body. “Thanks,” I said to Mordred, who nodded back at me, her eyes gleaming hungrily as they typically did in battle.

Before long, the enemy squadron was eliminated. The only things moving in the flat field we were in being our group. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck were still standing, the first clue that something was wrong. The second was a series of high-pitched whistling noises slowly growing louder. My eyes widened as I looked ahead and skywards.

“Incoming! Take cover!” I shouted as dozens of arrows began their final approach, having reached the apex of their flight. Jeanne leapt off of her horse, holding her furled flagpole aloft.

“Oh flag of mine, protect our comrades,” she began to say as the arrows drew closer. Warm golden light began to appear around the fabric as the banner unfurled. “Luminosité Eternelle!”

She had finished deploying her Noble Phantasm not a moment too soon, for seconds later the hail of arrows struck. Before I could finish blinking, the ground surrounding our group was covered with arrows, but not a single one had struck us. Despite a somewhat strained look marring her expression, the saint maintained her Noble Phantasm as we looked around frantically.

“Did anyone see who did that?” Ritsuka called out as we grouped up, our Servants dismounting. I tried to follow, but Mordred stared at me, and I could feel her glare behind her horned helmet. I nodded my surrender in silence and she returned the gesture, standing close by.

Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long for our attacker to reveal themselves.

“RULER!!!!”

The shouter was a woman in an intricately-designed green dress. Her hair was an unusual mixture of greenish-blue in the front and blonde, and at the top poked out what appeared to be two ears like the ones of a lion. A lion’s tail trailed behind her. She carried a bow, an arrow already notched and the bowstring drawn. Her green eyes bore into Jeanne d’Arc, who was unable to move as she was still deploying her protective Noble Phantasm.

“MONSTER! MURDERER! DIE!” The Servant howled. So, I had three things to go off of right now: She was an Archer, she had been given the Berserker trait, and she had a hate-boner for Jeanne d’Arc apparently. “I’LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID!”

Yep, definitely getting from Berserker Archer a strong feeling of hatred towards our French comrade.

“What the hell, this really is a Greater Holy Grail War reunion!” Mordred groused. I grunted at my Servant.

“Another old colleague?”

“Mhm. She was Archer of Red. My…teammate. I didn’t learn what her True Name is,” Mordred said quickly as Berserker Archer prepared to fire another rapid volley of arrows. “Nor the reason why she’s going after Ruler,” she added before I could ask.

“Damn it! She’s certainly living up to her class then! Anything else about her that you can share?” I asked a bit gruffly as more arrows impacted against the invisible barrier Jeanne had given.

“Yeah, don’t get shot,” the Knight of Rebellion responded dryly. I gritted my teeth but didn’t snap at her. Honestly, we were stuck as it were. Berserker Archer had a range advantage, and if Mordred’s advice was anything to go with, her Noble Phantasm was probably some sort of crazy ‘area of effect’ type.

“Not coming up with any good plans here,” Ritsuka said warningly to me. I growled in agreement, biting my lower lip when suddenly, to my surprise, the rain of arrows had stopped. She couldn’t possibly have run out of arrows, not for a Servant.

“Gah! Damn you! If you won’t die to my arrows, then I’ll rip your throat out!” The crazed and bloodthirsty Archer roared, leaping forward. A dozen more wyverns had appeared by now with the apparent intent of assisting the Servant against us. Well, this was still problematic, but at least we had a better advantage now.

“Siegfried, Georgios, Sasaki! Bring those beasts down. Mordred, go protect Jeanne! Elisabeth, Amadeus, stay back in reserve,” I barked out my instructions.

“Mash, please assist Mordred. Chulainn, stay back for now. Medea, Kiyohime, assist the others,” Ritsuka said immediately after me. Our Servants sprang into action. “I’ll keep an eye on the wyverns, you go focus on watching the others defeat Berserker Archer,” my fellow Master offered. I nodded graciously before looking just in time to see Berserker Archer skid to the side, courtesy of Mordred’s slamming of Clarent’s cross-guard into the side of her face.

Berserker Archer recovered quickly, however, and lunged at Mordred, gripping the bottom section of her bow with the apparent intent of using it as a club. She swings it but Mordred easily blocks it with Clarent.

Mash came charging in from the side next, slamming her massive shield into the maddened Servant’s side. She quickly recovered, however, with a feral snarl she lashed out at Mash. Ritsuka’s Demi-Servant barely managed to deflect the strike with her shield before Berserker Archer suddenly changed tactics, swinging her bow low, knocking Mash off her feet. The Shielder cried out in alarm as her back hit the grass beneath her, Berserker Archer glaring down at her.

Mordred came charging in next, intent on bisecting the troublesome Servant at best, or at the very least, force her to switch her attention away from the prone Demi-Servant at her feet. In a blur of motion, Berserker Archer lashed out with her foot, hitting Mordred hard in her midriff and sending the Saber skidding several yards away before she lost her balance and tumbled a few yards more.

However, Berserker Archer didn’t follow up with attacks on either of the two girls, instead still glaring murderously at Jeanne. As the Maid of Orléans began to break off her deployment of her Noble Phantasm, the Archer was within her guard, delivering a strike with the tip of her bow to the Ruler’s midriff. The force of the blow caused the Ruler to bend over, wide-eyed, before a hand grabbed her by the throat, holding the now-thrashing Servant off the ground as she fought for air.

“Ruler!” Mordred exclaimed angrily, trying to regain her bearings.

“Now die, Ruler!” Berserker Archer roared as she threw Jeanne to the ground before swiftly notching an arrow and pointing it at the Ruler’s heart.

“Jeanne!” I cried in alarm, and Mordred pushed herself back up onto her feet, running forward as fast as she can. She wasn’t going to make it…

“Chulainn! Now!” Ritsuka called out next to me. The Irish Lancer looked over at his Master briefly, nodding, a wild glint in his eyes before he locked his gaze onto Berserker Archer.

“Your heart is mine! Gàe—” Chulainn turned into a blur of blue, silver, and red, dashing past us as cold red energy pulsed menacingly from his spear. The next moment I could see him properly, he was within Berserker Archer’s guard. Her eyes widened, and even in her state of madness she had recognized the danger.

Too late.

“BOLG!” A horrid, wet squishing sound could be heard as Ireland’s Child of Light impaled Mordred’s former teammate. The Archer gasped in pain, a line of blood drippling out of the corner of her mouth as Ritsuka’s Lancer withdrew the cursed spear that had pierced her heart.

“….thank…you,” She whispered, the hold of madness Jeanne Alter had afflicted her with now broken. She closed her eyes and faded away without another word. Meanwhile, Mordred helped Jeanne back onto her feet, the latter rubbing her throat with a wince.

“You okay over there, Jeanne?” I called out. The Ruler looked at me with a soft smile.

“Yes, Master, I am fine. She just caught me off-guard,” she explained a bit sheepishly. I nodded, forcing my shoulders to relax as best I could before speaking into my commlink.

“Doctor Roman, what are your scanners telling us now?” I asked, unwilling to relax despite our victory.

 _“At least several Servant readings and one ultra-sized lifeform are waiting just a few miles ahead,”_ the acting-director of Chaldea reported to us dutifully. I looked at the others, noticing the unanimous display of resolve. This was one of the things that it meant to be a Hero. To face long odds with steel in their soul, and sword and spear and bow in hand.

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting for us, huh?” I said, forcing a grin on my face despite my anxiety over what was to come. Everyone else had dismounted from their horses, unwilling to risk the faithful steads to dragon fire. When Ritsuka and I began to do the same, however, we were stopped and told that it would be better for us to remain mounted so we could keep up with the others without having to use prana. With no further words needed to be said, we began moving closer and closer to Orléans.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, we stood before Orléans. The ground was barren, scorched to the earth with dragon fire. Blackened bones and broken weapons were scattered everywhere, the signs of the destruction Jeanne Alter had rendered upon the city and its surrounding areas. It was like a chapter straight out of a fantasy novel. Of the heroes facing off against an army of evil. An irony that wasn’t lost on me as I gazed up at the host before us.

The air was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of wyverns of various sizes and colors. Red, green, and black. They hovered, their orange eyes gazing hungrily at us, but they didn’t move forward. Nor was our attention truly focused on them, numerous though they were.

No, we gazed at the massive black dragon we had encountered only a few days earlier. Fafnir, the Evil Dragon. And before him stood a familiar figure, her flagstaff firmly planted into the ground, its banner unfurled and fluttering in the wind, displaying a stylized depiction of a dragon.

“Hello, trash I left behind,” Jeanne d’Arc, the Dragon Witch, said, leering at Jeanne d’Arc, the Maid of Orléans. For once, the words of the fallen Ruler did not affect my temporary Servant, who instead looked the other ‘her’ directly into her yellow eyes.

“No, I am a vestige,” Jeanne corrected. “Most importantly, I’m not you, Dragon Witch.”

“But you _are_ me. What are you talking about?”

Jeanne sighed at her alternate self’s words, a look of sadness and pity in her eyes. “No matter what I say, I can no longer reach you.” She gazed intensely at our foe, slamming her own weapon into the ground as a proclamation of her resolve. “After this battle is over, I’m going to give you an earful!”

“Silence!” Jeanne Alter roared, spreading out her arms to gesture at the mass of creatures behind her. “Behold these dragons! Behold this horde of dragons!” As if to emphasize this fact, Fafnir looked upwards and released an earth-shaking roar. “We have turned this nation into a nest of dragons! They will devour everything, and nothing will eve live in France again! Then this world will be complete. Then this world will be destroyed. The dragons will fight one another for eternity. Endless war. Endless death. Endless devouring…That will be the true Hundred Years’ War: A Hundred Years War of Evil Dragons!”

“Fire!”

Suddenly, a wave of _booms_ came from nearby, as well as thudding sounds as balls of stone and fire began to rain down onto the horde.

“What?!?” The Dragon Witch roared angrily.

“Gilles!” Jeanne said excitedly at the same time. Sure enough, the dark-haired man in silvery-green armor from a few days ago was there. The rallied remnants of the French army were at his back.

“Fire again! We fight for the survival of France! Fire everything we have! Fire, fire!” The general roared, as his gunners made ready their primitive cannons to fire another salvo. Further back, catapults and the odd trebuchet were also being prepared to fire.

“Do not be afraid! Do not sorrow! Do not falter! If you have human blood, now is the time to die! I will say it again! There is nothing to fear! For we—" Gilles continued, waving his sword as he looked towards us. Or rather, towards a certain blonde saint. “ _For we have the Saint on our side_!” Apparently, Jeanne’s old friend and brother-in-arms had been busy trying to rehabilitate the Ruler’s status, for his soldiers and knights all gave out mighty battle cries. More projectiles were launched, and the close-formation of wyverns began to suffer horrendous casualties even as they began to move towards the larger group in response.

“….Gilles!” Jeanne said happily, her cheeks a soft rosy pink. The fact that there were countrymen no longer cursing her must have been heavenly for her, not matter how much she had said the judgement she had encountered hadn’t affected her. It seems that she had thought upon the words I had spoken to her about Gilles. Jeanne Alter glowered at both the general and her counterpart.

“Hmph,” she huffed angrily, “such stubborn belief. It makes me want to vomit. Fafnir!” The dragon roared upon the Dragon Witch’s calling of its name. Jeanne Alter stepped to the side as she pointed her flagpole at Jeanne. “Incinerate that Saint, that army, this nation! Burn them, burn them all! Burn everything to the ground!”

Siegfried stepped forward, his sword held before him. His eyes stared into the eyes of the advancing black dragon. “Hah. I never thought I’d see you for a third time. Perhaps, in another time or world, we could’ve been connected in another way…Fafnir! I am here, wicked dragon! I, Siegfried, am right here! Once again you shall taste my blade. This, I swear by my righteousness, and by all my beliefs!”

“Damn it! Come forth my Servants!” Jeanne Alter commanded. I recognized the three who answered her call. Berserker Saber, Berserker Lancer, and Sanson. The Assassin looked almost mindless, but was glaring murderously at Amadeus, who gladly returned the favor. Without a word, the two broke off from their respective groups, and prepared to settle the score between them over a certain French Rider. Of Berserker Assassin, there was no sight of her.

“Hey, you guys, good to see you’re doing well!” Berserker Saber said with good cheer, beaming at us with a wide, almost unsettling quite frankly, smile on their face. “I am Chevalier d’Eon. This time I lend my blade to evil, but it remains as pure as ever. Now, fight me with all you have! End this nightmare!” d’Eon implored us, taking up a fencing posture.

“So, you came, huh? There’s no shame in becoming fallen,” Vlad said in his rich baritone. “Defeat is the greatest shame of all. I’ve become a mere puppet in the search for the Grail. I am praised as the immortal vampire,” Berserker Lancer admitted with disgust thick in his cultured voice. “Fiction or not, it is all I have left,” he added bitterly.

“Masters, they’re coming! The French army is holding off the wyverns!” Mash reported. “This is it!”

“Let’s do it, Mash!” Ritsuka said.

“No finer words have ever been spoken at the start of such a battle! Siegfried, Georgios, Sasaki! Focus on Fafnir, hold nothing back! Elisabeth, Kiyohime, take out Berserker Saber!”

“Understood!”

“So be it.”

“You got it, Puppy!”

“For my Love.”

I then turned to Mordred. “Ready to finish what you started with Vlad back at La Charité?” I asked the Knight of Rebellion. Though her helmet covered her features, I could almost feel her excitement.

“Absolutely,” she said with feral savagery, bracing her body before she began launching attacks.

“Then let’s do this!” I said, and almost in unison the Servants of Ritsuka and I sprang forward, weapons at the ready as they launched themselves at their designated opponents, who copied their actions.

With that, the Battle of Orléans, the outcome of which would decide the fate of humanity, began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Next chapter is going to be a bit of a headache for me to type, at least until good ole Siegfried strikes down Fafnir! So what did you guys think? Good chapter, I hope? Sorry, just been worried that my writing skills have been going down and I wanna make sure that I am killing the enjoyment compared to earlier chapters lol. Probably just my own imagination. On a side note, I have now broken my record for a longest story, so that feels great!
> 
> Now, sadly, I couldn't get as much as I would have wanted out of the fight between Berserker Archer (AKA Atalante) and Jeanne d'Arc as I was planning due to the lack of proper terrain to be used considering that she had a lot of range capabilities. Thankfully, this won't be the last time that these two foes from fate/Apocrypha will meet.
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: What do you think was the least enjoyable event on FGO so far? Also, does anyone else think that Artoria Lancer and Artoria Lancer Alter, lookwise, feels a bit too much? Was talking with my sister about how she was designed and she pointed out how it looks a bit too much ya know?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it! Looking forward to reading comments, feedback, and all that lovely stuff, and see you next time!


	24. Battle of Orleans, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight time! Not much else to say here, other than that I hope you enjoy and see you at the end notes!

The air was filled with so many sounds. The sounds of steel slamming against steel. The sounds of battle cries and death wails. The sounds of cannon, neighs, and roars. Once again, the similarities between the sight I was witnessing and various scenes of the final battle in fantasy novels that I had read were crystal clear.

The hardest part, for both Ritsuka and I, was the fact that we had to stay back, unable to directly assist our Servants. Or rather, I was unable to do so in my normal method. Thank god that Ritsuka had his skill in temporary boosting the stats of not only his Servants, both permanent and temporary, but mine as well.

Kiyohime and Elisabeth seemed to have d’Eon under control. Apparently, even under the Madness Enhancement trait forced upon them by Jeanne Alter, d’Eon was surprisingly underpowered for a member of the vaunted Saber-class. That wasn’t to say that the French Servant was therefore weak, however, as proven by the kick to Elisabeth’s midriff that sent the young teen Servant skidding backwards.

Ritsuka was focused on keeping an eye on Georgios and Siegfried as they engaged Fafnir, while nearby Jeanne dueled with her fallen self, keeping the Dragon Witch distracted. As for my attention, I was mainly focused on the battle between Mordred and Vlad. Both sides seemed eager to finish what they had started in La Charité, and neither of them were holding back. I tightened my fist that carried the Command Seals, ready to use them though hoping that would not be the case. So far, that hope seemed to be validated.

My Saber slammed Clarent into the shaft of Vlad’s lance, sending another shower of sparks into the air as she repeated the action from a different angle, only to achieve the same result. Suddenly, Berserker Lancer stepped backwards, reversing the grip of his weapon before suddenly slamming the butt of it into Mordred’s protected stomach. The blow was still enough to send the English knight skidding backwards as her sabatons dug firmly into the dry earth.

Berserker Lancer slammed his weapon into he ground, and between the two Servants erupted a wave of earthen spikes, bearing down on Mordred. The Saber stayed still until the very last moment, jumping up just as the spikes that could have killed her began to pop out. She lands on the tips, taking a brief second to adjust her balance before she began running across them.

As she closed the gap, she jumped forward, a leg outstretched that connected with the Servant’s chest, sending him tumbling backwards. Vlad recovered quickly, however, and delivered his own fierce lunge. It looked like this hit connected, but not in a lethal way, if the fact that there was only a small blood spray and a superficial cut between the armor plates on Mordred’s right arm. Still, it was just enough to cause the Knight of Rebellion to break off.

Closing my eyes, I forced some of my Mana through the connection I had with Mordred, as I had learned to do during our week of preparation at Chaldea, and healed her light wound, earning the quickest of nods before she looked back at her opponent, adopting a defensive stance this time.

With a roar, Vlad charged forward, intent on living up to his title of Vlad the Impaler. With a grunt, Mordred caught the lance just below the head, surprising its wielder before she followed up with a pommel strike to his right temple, dazing the Servant.

“This is it!” Mordred cried defiantly as Vlad stumbled backwards, his free hand clutching the side of his head still in pain, apparently unable to concentrate. To be honest, I don’t think many could recover from that so quickly, even with a helmet.

The Knight of Rebellion wasted no time taking advantage of the gap in her opponent’s guard, pressing on the attack. To his credit, Berserker Lancer was able to weakly defend himself, at least at first. He blocked about a half-dozen blows or so, rather clumsily though, before a blow from Clarent lopped off his right hand. Before the vampire could even cry out at the injury, however, there was a sickening squelching sound that I was only able to hear due to my proximity to the duel.

“Is it over now?” Vlad said in a dazed tone, his hands gingerly touching the blade of Clarent, firmly lodged in his heart. “My dreams, my ambitions will once again be erased? Hmph,” he scoffed in bitter amusement. “Who knew I’d deal with the ‘Dragon Slayer’ again? How ironic…” Berserker Lancer looked down; his legs gone. “I see, perhaps it will always be my destiny to fall no matter how hard I struggle. You, the Master over there,” Vlad said, some blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he pointed to me.

“You are a man who does not lose sight of himself amidst the battle. Next time summon me. Then, I will show you the true power of my lance. The lance that defended a nation…the weapons that defended my people…in your hands, they will shine—” with those final words, Vlad III faded into yet another cloud of golden dust. Two more such clouds soon joined his as Sanson and d’Eon were defeated.

With Jeanne still distracting her other self, I could see no signs of any other Servants, and all the while the hundreds of wyverns still alive were focused solely on the French army. Now all that was left between our foe and ourselves was Fafnir. Focusing on the massive draconic foe, I saw that

I turned to Mordred. “Go help Siegfried and Georgios!” Mordred’s helmet retracted, her eyes gleaming excitedly as she turned to the massive black dragon.

“You got it!” She roared before dashing towards the two male Servants, or more specifically, Siegfried. While the Rider saint distracted Fafnir, I saw that the two Sabers were in a rapid discussion, though I was unable to hear their words over the sounds of combat. If I had to guess, though, it would be that the two former foes were coordinating a final attack, for the male Servant nodded in response before raising his sword in front of his face.

Next to him, Mordred’s helmet retracted as she did a similar action, Clarent’s blade becoming covered in chaotic red energy while calm but intense blue radiated off of Siegfried’s. Her ponytail fluttered in the wind as both Noble Phantasms began to create waves of wind that shoot off in all directions.

“CLARENT—”

“BAL—”

“BLOOD ARTHUR!” Mordred roared, swing her sword down, the collected mass of energy shooting forward.

“—MUNG!” Siegfried shouted at the same time as he swung his own sword, blue energy coiling around that. It was a breathtaking sight, seeing the two Noble Phantasms intertwining with one another. Georgios leapt clear of Fafnir, who had sensed the danger as well. The dragon spread its wings and reared back it’s head. Fafnir roared as an orange glow began to be emitted from the back of its throat, preparing to breath fire, but it was too late.

The two mighty Noble Phantasms slammed into the center of Fafnir’s chest, and then the dragon was enveloped by a massive explosion as a massive wave of dust further obscured the results. I raised an arm in front of my face as I braced my body, hoping that my hat wouldn’t come flying off even as I use my other hand to hold it down onto my scalp. The instant I felt my body stop being buffeted by waves of wind, I looked forward.

Fafnir was still standing, but barely. One of the leathery wings was completely gone, while the other one was shredded to the bone. Where the brunt of the energy had slammed against the dragon’s thick, scaley hide, there was only burnt flesh. I watched in awe as Fafnir lurched forward suddenly before teetering, apparently fatally wounded by the combined efforts of Mordred and Siegfried.

Finally, with a whimper, Fafnir’s head crashed onto the ground, causing the earth to shake as the dragon’s eyelids closed one last time, it’s bloodied body already dissolving into a cloud of purple shadows. The battlefield fell silent, at least for the moment, both sides struggling to process what had just happened. Hell, even I was. Finally, it was the fallen dragon’s rider who spoke up, her tone filled with shock, rage, and hatred.

“Impossible!” Jeanne Alter roared, her body shaking as Jeanne instinctively stepped backwards. Her words managed to cause everyone to resume their actions, and the sound of battle filled the air once more. It was distant now for us, however, as the realization of our achievement finished sinking in for Ritsuka, Mash, myself, and Mordred.

“Fafnir’s been defeated!” Mash exclaimed in awe, her eyes shining much like Mordred’s were. I spurred my horse closer to the Saber, and then leaned over in my saddle to clap her shoulder proudly. The Knight of Rebellion turned towards me, beaming.

“Congrats, Mordred! You’ve just helped killing a dragon,” I said with a soft chuckle. The wide smile on her face was rather heartwarming, filled with nothing but excitement and accomplishment, and her smile somehow widened even further.

“ _Confirming Fafnir’s complete silence! Amazingly, a new Dragon Slayer has been born!”_ Doctor Roman reported giddy, and who could blame him? Looking towards the French army, I noticed that the wyverns, while still attacking, dying, and killing, they were far less coordinated, their movements jerky.

“Look! The wyverns are in a panic!” Mash said before I could comment.

“An army without a commander often becomes little more than a confused mob,” I replied, my lips twitching upwards slightly. The slight smile quickly slips from my face as I look back just in time to see the fleeing form of the Dragon Witch. She was astride a wyvern she must have summoned while we were distracted.

“I’m off to settle the score with the Dragon Witch,” Jeanne shouted over the sounds of battle. Farther away though it might now be, it still required for us to shout to hear one another. It seems that the lull caused by the death of their commander had worn off for the wyverns. Though their leader had fled, their mightiest had fallen, and their numbers heavily reduced, the remaining wyverns continued to dive and stroke out at the valiant French army.

“Master, we should leave as well. We can leave the Singularity Servants to finish up here, and take down the Dragon Witch,” Mash suggested to Ritsuka and I. Not a bad idea, truth be told. Siegfried and Georgios would be better suited to deal with the wyverns due to their dragon-slaying lore, and Amadeus didn’t seem ready to depart the field just yet.

“You guys ok with that?” I asked. Siegfried nodded solemnly.

“We can handle this. I would advise taking Kiyohime and Elisabeth with you, however. They are better suited to dealing with other Servants,” the Saber responded. Ah, so he is politely asking us to not leave the three male Servants to deal with the two.

“Understood. It has been an honor to fight alongside you,” I said, staring at the three. Ritsuka did something similar, but we had no time for anything more. I wheeled my horse around, and spurred its sides, sending the beast charging forward.

“Oi, wait up Master!” I almost laughed at Mordred’s indignant response before the Saber easily narrowed the distance between us.

* * *

I felt bad for the horses bearing Ritsuka and I, but we had to push them as hard as possible without killing them. Every moment we’re away from attacking Jeanne Alter, the harder this fight would undoubtedly be. Berserker Assassin was still around, and knowing our luck, there is probably a Servant or two that haven’t shown themselves. Worse, I had a sinking suspicion that she had fled with the intent on summoning more Servants.

Within minutes we were approaching the front gate of the castle of Orléans. While I couldn’t take the time to fully take in the devastation that had been wrought at the epicenter of this singularity, it was pretty damn hard to miss the burnt corpses and damaged masonry all around the battered walls.

More pressingly, however, was the small horde of skeletons amassed before the broken gate. Their bones were scorched almost black, marking them as undoubtedly reanimated members of the French soldiers and knights who had fallen trying to defend their king against the wrath of the Dragon Witch. Now, they served their murderer, and were in our way. Damn it!

We had not time to try to find another way in, and so we had to fight our way through. I growled angrily, reaching for my hilt of the sword at my side, preparing to draw the blade forth before my knight jumped ahead of our group.

“I’m sick and tired of those damn things getting in our way!” Mordred snarled, before activating her Mana Burst ability to increase her speed. In a blink of an eye, she had smashed her way into the front ranks of the legion of skeletons standing between us and the open gates of the castle.

Her helmet retracting, the Knight of Rebellion pointed Clarent straight up to the sky. “Crimson Lightning!” She shouted, and true to her words, bolts of red energy leapt from her blade before they slammed into the area surrounding her, kicking up both broken bones, rusty weapons, and more than a fair share of dust around her, temporary obscuring my Servant.

When the dust cleared, I saw that Mordred’s attack had destroy the skeletons that had been blocking our path forward. I slowed my horse down near Mordred, nodding my head in approval. “Not bad,” I observed before dismounting. Ritsuka did the same, and we gazed at the open but uninviting gates of Orléans. I felt a twinge of sadness as I once more felt the absence of Marie Antoinette. I could certainly use her seemingly boundless positive energy right about now.

“Looks like that was it for our welcoming committee,” I joked half-heartedly, earning a nervous chuckle from Ritsuka. I then turned to the others. “This is it. We can’t afford to stop for anything. Let’s go.” Then I plunged forward, Mordred and Jeanne by my side, and the others right on our heels.

* * *

We made rapid progress into the castle. The smell of ash and blood slammed into us almost immediately, and to my horror, I saw that the source of the latter was large amounts of gore and blood splatter against either side of the hallway. I felt queasy at the macabre sight, but didn’t stop, even as the splatters continued to greet us with every step we took.

“Hurry up! If we’re too slow, she’ll summon another Servant!” Jeanne shouted over her shoulder. Looking over my own, I saw that Elisabeth was slowing down, looking at the walls on either side with an odd expression on her face. Upon being called out, the Lancer’s face reddened in embarrassment.

“I-I know that!” Elisabeth stammered, moving forward once more, though still gazing intently at the blood-covered walls. “But you know, this castle’s kind of nice…” Elisabeth said in a quieter, somewhat bashful tone that had Ritsuka and me exchange concerned glances. “It’s kind of my style, you know?”

“You mean terrible?” I said incredulously.

“Indeed, all this blood,” Kiyohime grunted in disgust. “They don’t organize, they don’t clean…how filthy,” the Berserker tutted in further disapproval. “Only a bloodthirsty barbarian would prefer a place like this.” Elisabeth didn’t respond at first. When she did, she spoke in a quieter, almost hurt tone.

“Y-you’re right! This is bad, isn’t it!” That last part of her response did not so much sound as a question as it was as if she was trying to convince herself.

“I do admit, it would be far more preferable if there were more maiden blood then simple soldiers coating these walls.” The voice came not from ahead, but behind, bringing us to a screeching halt, nevertheless. Well, at least we have found were Carmilla was. Another part of me was also glad that she hadn’t tried to lunge out of nowhere and target Ritsuka or I. I still had shivers from Phantom’s attempts back in Lyon. “I am afraid I can’t let you go any further,” the enhanced Assassin sneered menacingly.

“Why you! Why you, why you, why you!” Elisabeth shrieked, causing me to wince as the high-pitched noise reverberated in the enclosed hallway. She glared at Berserker Assassin, who was more than happy to return the gesture.

“This is…quiet irritating,” Carmilla hissed. “This ‘me’.”

“Right back at you!” The young dragon-teen snarled. “How did you get to be a Servant?” Carmilla laughed at the source of her legend mockingly.

“Never thought you’d say that. From where _I_ stand, it’s far more maddening to see that’ve become a Servant as myself! I’m a revered countess, feared by all. The finished product, you might say, who devoured fear to become an Anti-Hero,” Carmilla said, holding one hand to her chest while the other clutched her staff, her tone a mixture of boastfulness and condescending. “I’m not an unfinished product like you. You devoured the existence that is me. You simply refused to age, and feared being sealed away.” Elisabeth said nothing, trembling with rage as the maddened Assassin tutted in reproach. “Of course you did. From your perspective, I’m just a sign of your sin. The guilt you brough upon yourself, the unassailable record of your murders!”

Those final words appeared to have hit the popstar-themed Lancer like a shot to the gut, for her anger seemed to drain out of her, replaced with a forlorn expression. “That’s right,” Elisabeth finally said. “You are who I really am, my final destination. The symbol of my sin, that no tears, regret, or sorrow will ever change. Denying you means looking away from the crimes I’ve committed.” She looked straight at Carmilla, defiance present once more on her features. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take responsibility! It may be ugly self-deception, but I’ll say it anyway!” She took a deep breath. “I…I don’t want to be like you!”

Berserker Assassin shook her head in disappointment. “How foolish, we’re spirits of the past. The future’s already been decided.”

“I know that! But I’m saying it anyway! Go on, little Puppies! She is mine!” Elisabeth declared, tightening her posture for combat. I turned to Sasaki.

“Help her out, and then join us as quickly as possible.”

“As you command, Master,” the quiet Assassin said, drawing his sword from the scabbard slung over his back, joining by the side of the Lancer. Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I saw the young Servant sprinting forward towards Carmilla.

The sounds of combat echoed behind us, along with grunts and shouts. Neither Ritsuka nor I looked back though. In a few more minutes, we were approaching what appeared to be the end of the main hallway we had been traversing, causing us to slow down. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I tensed

“Well, well, long time no see,” a familiar-sounding voice echoed in the dimly lit hallway. In front of a pair of thick, wooden doors was a man in robes. His black hair was slicked back, and his hands were covered in reddish veins, and in his right hand he clutched a tome of some kind. The sinister appearance of the Servant before us was somewhat ruined by the way his eyes were pointing off in different directions, but it didn’t lessen the fact that he was a Servant, and his face looked somewhat familiar.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jeanene’s turquoise eyes narrowing. “Gilles,” She said sternly. The one standing before us looked nothing like the general who was leading his countrymen outside the castle. Her former comrade merely released a crazed-sounding chuckle before speaking.

“Who knew that you’d defeat Fafnir, and show yourselves here in Orléans,” he said, shaking his head before smiling. “To be honest, I’m impressed. However! However!” Gilles, or rather, the version of the man after his fall suddenly stopped smiling, staring menacingly with a snarl. “Oh, my saint! And your comrades! Why do you stand in my way? You come into _my_ world destroying everything, and now you’re even trying to kill Jeanne d’Arc!”

“I had a question about that,” Jeanne said, and I could tell that she was trying her best to keep calm. “I had a question about that,” she admitted in response. “Gilles de Rais, is she really me?” The Servant’s mouth fell open at the Ruler’s questions, a look of horror evident on his features.

“What? What-what-what unforgiveable blasphemy! Even the Saint would despair and rage to hear such a thing! That is, without a doubt, the true Jeanne d’Arc. It is the darkness hidden within her,” Gilles said, almost piously. Jeanne’s features darkened.

“I see,” she said softly, before speaking louder. “Then, as the light, I must face her.”

“Jeanne, I won’t let _anyone_ stop me—even you!” Gilles snarled before he brought his tome forward. We all braced for combat.

“Damn it, every minute he delays us is another minute Jeanne Alter has to summon reinforcements!” I snarled, trying to think of the best way to deal with this. Ritsuka was the one to beat me to it, however.

“Mash!”

“Understood, Master!” Mash called back as she ran forward, slamming her shield into the Caster, and knocking him off-balance before leaping backwards as a tentacle appeared out of nowhere, lashing out at the Demi-Servant.

Chulainn slammed his spear into the magical appendage, knocking it aside before it could harm Mash. Medea launched a bolt of magical energy, further distracting the enemy Caster.

“We got this! You take Mordred and Jeanne and go stop the Dragon Witch!” Ritsuka said, looking behind me as the other Servants, except Mordred and Jeanne, began to attack Gilles.

“Right!” I responded. I looked to Mordred, who nodded back, then to Jeanne. To my surprise, she had a hesitant look on her face as her turquoise eyes darted back and forth between the doors and the fallen version of her old comrade.

“Jeanne! What’s wrong?” I said, my words snapping her out of whatever funk she was in. The Ruler shook her head fiercely, a red blush on her cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s nothing,” She responded apologetically, before her more normal expression of determination and sternness reappeared. “Let’s go. Thank you both!” She shouted to Ritsuka, Mash, and the others.

“Kick his ass!” I added as the two female Servants and I ran past the now-preoccupied Caster, Jeanne bringing up the rear as Mordred kicked open the doors and we stepped through, Jeanne quickly closing them to prevent Gilles from trying to launch attacks from behind while the three of us dealt with the Dragon Witch.

The room was covered in scorch marks, and the charred bones of skeletons lay in piles to either side, no doubt the remains of the original owners. In the center of the room was a white circle with arcane markings. A Summoning Circle. In the middle were two things. The first was a golden chalice that I found hard to look away from. That must be the Holy Grail. However, that wasn’t the most pressing of matters before us.

No, for that would be the glaring, spiteful version of the saint Jeanne d’Arc that stood before us, casually gripping her weapon, but ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Her yellow eyes stared directly at me, ignoring Mordred and Jeanne. She took a few steps forward, placing herself between the Grail and us, a sneer on her lips.

“Welcome, little mouse,” Jeanne Alter glared at me, “to your death. You and your friends will bother me no more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! I will admit, I had a hard time writing the fight scene at the beginning, mainly because of having to limit whose fight was being focused on by Jacob, which naturally would be by this point Mordred, at least in my opinion. Also, I decided that I wanted to split the group up for the final battle at the end mainly because I wanted to focus next chapter on Mordred, Jeanne, and Jacob against Jeanne Alter, plus it kinda makes logical sense considering the rush they are forced to deal with by that point. Did you still enjoy it though? Favorite scenes/dialogues used?
> 
> Also, only one more chapter left before we return to Chaldea! Who's excited to see how the final confrontation between Jacob, Mordred, and Jeanne versus Jeanne Alter, cause I know I am! Just as a heads-up, I have a strong feeling there is going to be some feels next chapter. Also, I will probably not be updating my SummerFes story until I finish the next chapter, which shouldn't take too long (hopefully).
> 
> For the questions of the day: Who do you think would be the best top 3 Servants that could be romantically paired with Alter?
> 
> The second question is, do you think I should break this story up into different parts (i.e. after finishing Orleans and a few other things, ending this before posting the next Singularity in a story as Will to Fight Part II) or keep it in one big chunk? On Tuesday I was spending time with a fellow author from this site who attends the same college as I do and is one of my friends mentioned the possibility of the story becoming potentially intimidating for new readers if it gets too long, and I don't want that to be the case because I am really proud of this story and all. No final decision on that just yet, obviously, but I figured that it wouldn't hurt to ask for the opinions of my awesome readers! :)
> 
> With all that said, thank you for reading another chapter. Once again, a massive shout-out to all my loyal fans, especially Zlatz and Majesticid, for all the feedback, support, and positivity, be it through bookmarking, subscribing, leaving a kudo and/or comment, or simply just reading! You guys rock! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will see y'all in the next chapter! :)


	25. Battle of Orleans, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob, Mordred, and Jeanne confront Jeanne Alter for the final showdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter for the Orleans arc....a long chapter too. Warning, may contain a lot of feels, and notes at the bottom. That said, I hope you enjoy.

“Welcome, little mouse,” Jeanne Alter glared at me, “to your death. You and your friends will bother me no more.”

At those words, Mordred and Jeanne shifted themselves around so that they stood protectively before me

“My, you have been quite a persistent mouse, and yet you say nothing?”

“What is there that I can say? That you have been wronged, but that your actions aren’t justified? Or, that I should curse you for your actions, for your attempts to kill my friends and I?” I said firmly, catching the Dragon Witch off-guard. “DO you want me to say that I hate you, and that I will gratefully watch your death? Or perhaps you want me to insult you by asking for your surrender?” I continued, crossing my arms over my chest, unwilling to budge. “If my time here has taught me anything, raging anger and hatred bring nothing. Tell me, Jeanne d’Arc the Dragon Witch…have your actions truly brought you satisfaction? Do you feel _happy_ with yourself?” I asked, meaning every word. I wasn’t trying to insult our foe.

Something just doesn’t feel right about her situation, however. With the amount of wyverns she had at the start of the battle, there shouldn’t have been any towns left intact. But yet there were, and a part of me wondered if her heart truly wasn’t in what she claimed to desire. Jeanne Alter said nothing for a few long seconds, staring expressionlessly at me. In the meantime, we could still here the sounds of combat behind, and the tension built up ever further.

“Tch! What a bunch of damn nonsense!” The pale girl finally said with a glare. “It matters not. I will admit, you arrived faster than I though. I didn’t even have time to modify the spell—” Jeanne Alter’s complaining was interrupted thankfully.

“Dragon Witch.” Those two words, or rather, the one who said them caused the fallen Ruler to close her mouth, and look at Jeanne, who gazed back without flinching. The expression on the alternate version of Jeanne seemed to have finally noticed her for the first time, her attention having been focused solely on me.

“So, you finally made it here, huh? It seems that Gilles is preoccupied dealing with your other friends,” she said, before shrugging slightly. “I suppose that’s fine. Everything is ready.” Next to me, we could hear Jeanne muttering under her breath.

“Tell her what she needs to hear. That was Marie’s instruction to me,” the Maid of Orléans said before speaking louder once more. “I have another thing to ask of you as well.” The Dragon Witch shook her head while shrugging.

“It’s too late for tal—”

“It’s a very simple question,” Jeanne said persistently. “Do you remember your family?” Ok, that was unexpected. In fact, the only one who wasn’t caught off guard was the saint herself.

“What?” Mordred grunted under her helmet.

“…Huh?” Jeanne Alter finally managed to say, her head tilted slightly to one side in confusion.

“Jeanne?” I asked. The Ruler didn’t respond to me, her eyes fixed solely on her fallen self.

“I asked you a simple question. No matter how vivid my memories of battle are, I remember far more of my life as a simple country girl,” Jeanne said with a soft smile, no doubt recalling such tender moments even now. “Even my dark side should remember those peaceful days. No, it’s precisely because she remembers them—that the hatred and betrayal brought her such pain,” she added, gazing sympathetically at her alternate self.

The Dragon Witch looked unsure of herself. “I…I...” She tried to say something, but whatever it was, it was refusing to be said. Jeanne sighed at Jeanne Alter’s reaction.

“I see,” she said sadly. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“What…what does it matter?” The Dragon Witch spat the words out, but even then, it felt a little less hateful than it should have. “Whether I remember or not, I’m still Jeanne d’Arc!” She roared, slamming her flagstaff into the ground hard, cracking the stone floor. Was it just me, or did she sound like she was trying to convince herself, just as Elisabeth had shortly before done the same in trying to convince herself about the castle’s interior being bad.

“That’s right,” Jeanne said with a kind nod. “It doesn’t matter whether you remember.” She placed the butt of her own flagstaff against the floor. “But this settles it. I shall defeat the Dragon Witch with sadness, not anger,” she said. She really did have a forgiving and caring heart, it seems. Her words, though, merely riled up the fallen Ruler further.

“Shut up! Let’s fight!” She snarled, a fire in her yellow eyes. “Will despair win, or will hope win? Will murderous intent win, or will pity win? Let’s see if you can surpass me,” the Dragon Witch said angrily, preparing herself for the battle that was about to start, “Jeanne d’Arc!”

“Enough damn talking! Ruler, let’s finish this!” Mordred barked, activating her Mana Burst ability once more, flooding her body with energy as she took up an offensive stance with Clarent. Next to her, Jeanne nodded, twirling her own weapon deftly before leveling the spear tip towards Jeanne Alter.

“Right!” was all she said before the Dragon Witch began to laugh cruelly, her eyes narrowed. Then the fallen Ruler sprang forward, charging her two opponents.

I watched as it appeared that Jeanne Alter was bearing down on ‘herself’, no doubt desiring to finally achieve her supposed desire of destroying the Ruler. Jeanne responded by spreading out her legs slightly to brace herself as she began to rapidly twirl her own weapon like a windmill, intent on deflecting the strike. Next to her, Mordred raised Clarent, and if I had to guess what her move would be, it was to strike out at the Dragon Witch from the side.

At the last minute, however, the flagstaff bearing down at them shifted directions, and Mordred leapt back as Jeanne Alter shifted her charge towards the Knight of Rebellion, thrusting forward fiercely at the last second.

Thanks to her quick reaction, the spear tip merely skidded off of Mordred’s breastplate, leaving a long metallic streak across the red-accented metal. I could hear Mordred’s angry snarl as she lashed out clumsily with Clarent, with the intent more of pushing Jeanne Alter back than to cause damage.

Smirking cruelly, the Dragon Witch leapt backwards before suddenly skidding on her knees, ducking under Jeanne’s own thrust from the side before lashing out at the Ruler this time, aiming low. Jeanne released a short cry of surprise as the polearm slammed into her feet, sweeping her off of her feet and sending her sprawling onto her back. Her follow-up strike thankfully was diverted first by the flat of Clarent, then a follow-up right hook from Mordred that sent the Dragon Witch skidding backwards for several yards.

I bit the inside of my cheek, nervous. Though I hadn’t gotten the chance of seeing Jeanne Alter’s fighting style until now, I had assumed that it would be more like the one used by my Jeanne. It turns out I was half-right. She does use the same fighting style and moves, but they are crueler, brutish. Savage.

“She’s stronger than I expected,” Jeanne muttered as she got back up onto her feet, warily watching the scowling alternate version of herself. Mordred scoffed under her helmet at the Ruler’s observation.

“Tch! It doesn’t matter how strong, only that she falls!” Mordred retorted aggressively, before charging forward, swinging Clarent in a series of powerful two-handed strikes. The unrelenting offensive apparently surprised the Dragon Witch, even as she spun and twirled her weapon, blocking strike after strike, sparks flying up between them each time metal smashed itself against metal. What must have been seconds began to feel like countless minutes creeping by as I watch yet another dance of death.

Jeanne kept herself back, an unhappy expression on her face at being unable to directly assist her fellow blonde Servant at the moment, though knowing that in this case, Mordred very well might be the best of the two to wear down the corrupted version of the Maid of Orléans.

The flurry of blocked strikes and counterstrikes soon led to a stalemate between the armored knight and the pale, short-haired blonde, the latter of whom opened her mouth and began to address her opponent in a mocking and condescending tone, cruelty glinting plainly in her yellow eyes.

“Ha! If you truly are Mordred like your pathetic mouse called you, then are you really any ‘better’ than I am? You too destroyed a nation when you led others to take up arms against King Arthur. You destroyed the golden era of Britain, and single-handedly slew a legend as you committed betrayal, siblicide, and finally patricide! Face it, you’re not much different than I,” Jeanne leered, staring into the slits of Mordred’s helmet as the Knight of Rebellion began to shake angrily. These words revealed nothing I hadn’t already known about Mordred’s legend before I summoned her, so if she was trying to indirectly cause me to turn against the blonde knight, the Dragon Witch would be sorely mistaken.

What they did do, however, was fan Mordred’s aggression into an inferno. Her composure was gone, and if I could see her eyes right now, they would undoubtedly have been filled with pure anger and a desire to murder the sneering Servant before her.

Small streaks of red lightning covered her body as she activated her Mana Burst ability once again, pushing her physical strength to the limits as I could hear Jeanne Alter’s pole beginning to groan and even bend under the new force Mordred was exerting onto Clarent. I could see the look of disbelief and confusion on the Dragon Witch’s face as she began to reap the whirlwind she had just sown.

“You speak of things you know nothing, witch!” Mordred roared angrily, letting go of Clarent’s hilt with her right hand, balling it into a metal-coated fist before slamming it into Jeanne Alter’s face. There was an oddly satisfying breaking sound as the Dragon Witch hissed loudly in pain, blood flowing down her face courtesy of her now broken nose.

Not letting it up for a moment, Mordred punched her again and again, forcing the fallen Ruler to give ground as Mordred once more began to fight like a Berserker. Standing between me and the two fighting Servants, Jeanne looked over her shoulder at me, concern for her comrade clearly on display. The look she shot me conveyed the silent request for new instructions.

“Don’t let Mordred get herself killed! And if you see a chance to strike from the side, do it!” I said rapidly, focusing on the raging Saber. The knight in question continued wailing away at a now-fearful looking Dragon Witch, who was now realizing her folly.

Soon, gaps began to appear in the fallen Ruler’s guard, and Jeanne noticed a big one, readying both her weapon and her resolve perhaps for what she was about to do.

“This is the end for you, Dragon Witch,” Jeanne said firmly as she thrusted her spear tip straight through the unprotected and exposed left armpit. At the same time, Mordred thrusted forth with Clarent, and the blade of the massive sword punched its way through Jeanne Alter’s torso armor, impaling her. My two Servants then leapt backwards, taking up defensive stances to either side of me as the three of us cautiously waited to see if enough damage had been dealt by the two devastating attacks.

“What?” Jeanne gasped in pain, holding the mortal wounds. Her flagpole clatters to the ground as she gazed at the sad-looking Jeanne, then the hidden face of Mordred, then finally me. “Im-Impossible. Ridiculous. This can’t be happening. It’s a lie,” she said rapidly, her face scrunched up in pain as she stepped over to the Summoning Circle we had found her in. “Because I—have the Holy Grail—!” She said, limping over to the object in question. “The owner of the Holy Grail knows no defeat. That’s how it should be!” She said defiantly even as she collapsed onto the ground. She propped her body up and glared at us, perhaps expecting to be mocked by us.

For all the devastation, suffering, and death she had inflicted, at this moment, I couldn’t find an ounce of satisfaction in her state, both for her body and now her psyche.

“Oh, Jeanne! Jeanne!” A voice wailed from behind as the doors slammed open. I heard Mordred shout my name before an armored figure tackled me to the side as a badly-wounded Gilles rushed into the room. The others, both Ritsuka’s group and Elisabeth and Sasaki, stood in the doorway, some of them looking battered, but otherwise uninjured in any serious manner.

The crazed Caster rushed over to the fallen Ruler, falling onto his knees and hugging her close to him. Her blood brightened his dark robes, but he didn’t care, his attention focused solely on the defeated Ruler. “What a pitiful sight you are!” Gilles continued to wail.

“Gilles…” Jeanne Alter said softly. Her tone was difficult to listen to as her body began to dissolve, her final wound finally taking its ultimate toll. Gilles shushed her softly, a smile lacking malice or arrogance on his lips as he cradled the dying girl.

“But now that I, Gilles de Rais, am here, you can rest,” Gilles said in a surprisingly gentle and caring manner. Now then, sleep in peace,” he urged. Jeanne Alter’s arms and legs had vanished, leaving only a torso in place as her eyelids slowly drooped down as she shook her head weakly.

“But…I still haven’t…” she said in protest. “I haven’t destroyed France…”

“I will take care of that,” Gilles promised dutifully to his beloved Jeanne. “Leave everything to me. Don’t worry. You will never die,” he said in one of the most blatant lies I had ever heard. Even though we were mortal enemies on this day, I wouldn’t render useless his efforts to ease the passing of Jeanne d’Arc Alter. “You’re just a little…a little tired. Close your eyes, and rest,” Gilles said, sounding less and less of a mad noble and more like a father comforting his child now. “When you awake, I’ll have finished everything.”

His words appeared to have done the trick, for Jeanne Alter nodded her head with a small smile on her face. For once, it felt innocent, and more like one of Jeanne’s smiles. “Yes, yes you’re right,” she said, closing her eyes. Only her head was left now. “Gilles…if you’ll fight for me, I can rest…and…”

With those final words, the Dragon Witch departed, leaving in her wake a silent audience and an equally silent Gilles, still on his knees. His arms were still outstretched, as if the cradle the body that had just left. He said nothing, a blank expression on his face before he suddenly reached out with one arm and grabbed the nearby Grail.

“So that’s how it ended up, after all,” Jeanne finally said. Gilles laughed softly, still sounding like his younger self fighting to save his country outside the castle.

“You have a powerful intuition,” he said in response, pushing himself up onto unsteady feet. It seems that the Caster hadn’t much longer left to be alive, even if his body wasn’t dissolving yet.

“Um, Jeanne?” Mash asked hesitantly, as she and the others walked up behind us. “What exactly—” The Demi-Servant started to ask the Ruler before the latter politely cuts her off.

“It wasn’t the Dragon Witch who possessed the Holy Grail before us,” Jeanne said, before frowning sternly at the now-grinning Gilles. “No, actually that Servant never existed in the Thrones of Heroes. As long as she wasn’t an aspect of my darkness, there was no other conclusion I could make. Then there was the matter of her massive amount of strength. That couldn’t have been anything _but_ the Holy Grail. In other words, the Dragon Witch herself—”

“Was nothing but a wish created by a twisted Servant,” I snarled, the pieces finally coming together. I stared at the remorseless Caster with narrowed eyes, my hackles raised. His parting words really were nothing but lies, told to a dying girl who by all means shouldn’t have existed, and will not exist again. Even though she had tried to kill me and mine, no one deserved to live like that, born of a dark desire.

“Exactly. The Dragon Witch herself was my wish. A wish to revive you,” He said with a small smile, pointing at a now-horrified Jeanne. “It was a wish from the bottom of my heart. Of course it was. And yet, and yet, the Grail rejected me. For all its supposed omnipotent power, it said it couldn’t do that!” The Caster’s smile turned into a scowl, his hands curled into shaking fists. “But my wish was _only for you_! So, I created a new you! The Saint I believed in! The Saint I longed for! I! Created! Her! Jeanne d’Arc…the Dragon Witch!” Gilles roared.

“I see,” Jeanne said in disappointment, shaking her head at the ranting Servant. “But of course, she never learned that, did she? Even if you could revive me, I would never become your Dragon Witch,” she said with a sad, sympathetic smile. “It’s true that I was betrayed. It’s true that I was mocked. A tragic end, that is the only way one could describe it. But I could _never_ hate my homeland. The land where you and the others we fought alongside and for lived.”

“So kind,” Gilles finally said with closed eyes and a longing smile. “Your words are far too kind. However, Jeanne, that very kindness has made you forget one thing. Even if you never hated this country,” Gilles paused and took a deep breath before his eyes opened, filled with anger and hatred. “ _I HATED THIS COUNTRY!_ I swore that I would destroy it for its betrayal. You will forgive them, I’m sure. But I never will! Not God, not the king, not the nation! I’ll destroy them all. I’ll _kill_ them all! That, that is the wish that I made upon the Holy Grail! So, I warn you, _DO NOT GET IN MY WAY, JEANNE D’ARC!”_ Gilles roared

“Enough!” I roared back, fed up with this…this…monster! The anger in my tone silenced even the crazed Servant, and I could feel Mordred, Jeanne, all the others, gazing at me in concern. My wrath made me focus only on the one responsible for this mess.

“You condemned someone to a half-life at best! You lied to the Dragon Witch, and led her to believe she was real. She may have been only a foe, but few deserve such a life. A life as a glorified tool. A life as little more than a perverted fantasy of someone you claim to love! And what about the women and children of this land? The old and infirm? The peasants? Did they betray your beloved Jeanne?” I spat onto the ground between us.

“Gilles de Rais, as a Master of Chaldea, and therefore a protector of humanity, I judge you guilty. The sentence is death, to be carried out now. Mordred!”

“Yes, Master?”

“Finish this…this… _scum_ ,” I said, unable to put up with his existence any longer. He reminded me too much of Lev, of how he manipulated Director Animusphere. Not again. Never again.

“With pleasure,” Mordred growled, stepping forward with her helmet now retracted. Gilles laughed, however,

“So, I see that the betrayed was killed by a betrayer. Mordred, the spawn of Morgan le Fay, and murderer of King Arthur Pendragon.” Mordred stiffened at those words, and I could see her hands clenching the hilt of Clarent. Gilles smiled mockingly.

“I mistook your ‘father’ for my beloved Jeanne once. It seems that I have learned something else. Take this as a final piece of advice.”

“Not. Interested,” Mordred hissed, but the Caster ignored her.

“Your father and Jeanne have something in common,” Gilles giggled cruelly, all the while glaring at Mordred. “They were both killed by betrayal. How long until you cause the death of your Master, I wonder?” Mordred clutched Clarent so tightly that I expected to see blood leaking out if she wasn’t wearing her gauntlets. Her emerald eyes burned angrily as she stared at the dying Caster.

“Be silent, fiend!” She roared, swinging Clarent and diagonally bisecting the Caster. Even as the blade cleaved through the unprotective robes and the body they hid, Gilles continued cackling, taking enjoyment it seems of Mordred’s rage. Those dying laughter echoed around the chamber even after its owner had vanished.

My anger left my body, replaced with concern at Mordred, who bent down and grabbed the Grail. As I walked over to her, I could hear her whispering to herself.

“I guess I finally got the Grail…wish you were here, Master,” Mordred said in a tone mixed with sadness, bitterness, and mourning. She straightened up the moment she noticed me, her expression turning blank, staring at me with guarded eyes.

“Mordred,” I said softly, reaching out a hand towards her. “Are you okay?”

“Master. Not now,” she said firmly, before adding one more word. “Please.” That one word told me how rattled she was right now. I struggled to remember the last time I heard her use the word in its proper way. Biting the corner of my left lip softly, I nodded unhappily.

“As you wish. It can wait until you’re ready to talk about it when we return to Chaldea,” I finally said calmly, ensuring that the knight wouldn’t think that I was going to drop this. At that moment, my commlink chimed, and I activated it, gesturing for the others to gather round as Doctor Roman’s voice came through.

 _“The Grail recovery is complete,”_ said the acting-director. “ _The timeline restoration is about to start. Rayshift preparations are ready, so stand by for your return!”_

“Understood. See you on the other side,” I said, before looking up at Jeanne.

“You’re leaving? So soon?” She asked kindly. I nodded in response.

“Yes. Ritsuka and I don’t belong in this era, and we still have work to do,” I said. Behind her, I saw that the two Servants we met from Thiers were already starting to dissolve, their own purpose here completed.

“Oh, do you now?” Elisabeth huffed with crossed arms. “Well, I’ve achieved my goal, so I suppose it’s fine,” the Lancer said with an exaggerated sigh. “Goodbye, little puppies. You both fought fairly well,” she added with a lopsided smile. Next to her, Kiyohime stared at Ritsuka with a mixture of sorrow and longing.

“Oh my, this is goodbye?” The Berserker asked rhetorically before shaking her head with a rather mischievous smile present. “Don’t worry, Master. I can be rather persistent. No matter where you go, I’ll follow.” Is this a goodbye or a threat for Ritsuka? “That’s what love is, after all, you know?” No, that is called obsession. Thankfully, the two of them finished dissolving. I looked back at Jeanne, my temporary Servant. The blonde opened her mouth, but a different voice interrupted her.

“Jeanne!” Gilles, or rather, the Gilles of the light, ran into the room, his armor scorched, battered, his face cut, but excitement filled his eyes and voice. Jeanne spun around with a wide, earnest smile on her lips.

“Gilles!” She said happily, as her old comrade ran up to her and hugged her tightly, a gesture she more than happily returned.

“What happened? Are you…are you alive?” Gilles asked hurriedly. “France is in ruins, but…if you’re alive, that’s enough!” He said, desperation creeping into his voice. Jeanne stepped back, shaking her head as she smiled at the armored man.

“No, that’s not true. I’m sure that on some level you understand. This world is nothing but an ephemeral dream. I died, and you…sorrowed. That is history. That is an unchangeable fate.”

“Jeanne…”

“Don’t despair, Gilles. In a different form, in a different way, we’ll be able to fight together, just like old times. I can feel it,” Jeanne said reassuringly to a distressed Gilles. “So, think of this as but a temporary goodbye.”

“You truly are…” Gilles said in awe. “No, even in death, you still care for this country, for France. Please forgive us, Jeanne d’Arc! We...France…betrayed you!” Before he could act more like the Caster version of himself we had just vanquished, Jeanne rested a shoulder as he started to fade away.

“It’s all right. Let’s at least leave this world with a smile. If not for yourself, then for me, please?” Jeanne asked with yet another kind smile. Gilles appeared more than willing to comply with her simple request, though the smile was small and tinged with sadness, before he too vanished. Now it was only Jeanne left of those who wouldn’t be returning to Chaldea with us, and she too began to fade. Even then, her smile didn’t fade as she gazed at me.

“Master. Ritsuka, Mash…I expect my meeting with you all, our battles, even the lives we lost…all of this will disappear, won’t it? That makes me a little sad,” the Ruler admitted, her smile fading slightly as she did so. “Of course, it’s a joyous thing that lives lost will return to us. But I feel like I’ll meet you again, somewhere, sometime.” Jeanne smile brightened once more, a mischievous glint I wouldn’t have expected from her twinkling in her eyes. “My intuition can be pretty good, you know?” She said as she unfurled her banner before tearing off a portion suddenly.

I gaped slightly at her as Jeanne pushed the section of fabric into my hands. “A memento, that even when all seems lost, hope will always exist. Farewell, and thank you,” Jeanne said as she finally faded away. Before anyone could say anything else, I felt a tugging sensation in my body, and I lost consciousness, still gripping the last vestige of my temporary Servant as all faded to black.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I could see that I was back in Chaldea. The door to the Coffin device I had entered days ago was open, and I stepped out slowly. I looked down, and saw that the sword I had ‘borrow’ when we first arrived was still strapped to my side. Another souvenir then, it seems. Speaking off, I raised my clutched hand up, and sure enough, the scrap of fabric gifted to me by Jeanne d’Arc was still held tightly. A polite cough had my cheeks flushing slightly as I looked to see Doctor Roman, Mash, and Ritsuka standing around me. My fellow Master and his first Servant looked as exhausted as I felt, but I noticed that Mordred and the others were not present.

“Where are the others?” I asked in concern.

“They’re fine. You were the last one to wake up, and they went to do their own respective things. It’s almost midnight here, if you wanted to know,” Doctor Roman said, and I nodded absently. While I hadn’t really cared much, it was nice to know what time it was. Ritsuka gripped my shoulder gently.

“Mordred said she wanted to be alone, and she told me before she left that the two of you can talk tomorrow,” my friend said softly, and I nodded gratefully. Gilles words really had shaken the normally-cocky Saber, and if she needed time to herself, then as her friend, her _partner_ , I would willingly respect that.

“Now that the three of you are back, I want to say that you guys did good work out there. Thanks to your efforts, the first Grand Order was completed successfully. Despite being at such a disadvantage, you did splendid! The Holy Grail that was retrieved is being stored.” Doctor Roman paused and shifted his posture slightly, looking more confidant then he does at time, his eyes gleaming with pride.

“I say this on behalf of all the surviving members of Chaldea: You are now full-grown Mages, and we are all very proud of you.

“ _Fou! Fooou!”_ I chuckled as Fou clambered up Mash’s arm, returning to his normal perch on her shoulder. The Demi-Servant, once again in her normal attired, adjusted her glasses with one hand before scratching the underside of his chin.

“Fou made it back, too,” Mash said with a small smile. “Are we sure it’s not a lucky animal of some sort?” At that moment, the door leading out of the Rayshift chamber opened up, and Da Vinci strolled into the room with her trademark grin on her lips.

“Oh, welcome bac,” She said cheerfully before looking the three of us up and down. “You guys looked tired.” I can’t help but snort in amusement at that.

“I _feel_ tired,” I quipped, causing the Caster to shake her head in amusement before handing over a data pad of some sort.

“Here’s your latest observation records. Take a look, Doctor,” she says as she gives the device to Roman, who quickly scrolls through it. His brow furrowed slightly as he focused on the now-recorded results of our foray.

“Hm….Ooooh!” He exclaimed suddenly. “This is the final confirmation needed. 15th century France is restored completely. While there are still six more of these left to resolved, this is still part of human history back in its rightful place!”

“Yes,” Mash nodded, a somber expression on her face. “But, Doctor, we never saw Lev Lainur. He wasn’t in France then?” She asked. Doctor Roman scratched the back of his head as he chewed on the corner of his lip softly, humming to himself for a moment before answering.

“Yes, he’s probably hiding in one of the other six eras. No, I suppose he wouldn’t hide. Not anymore, at least. If we arrive in the one he is in, he will act.” Then the serious manner the ginger-haired man had evaporated as one of his more jovial expressions came back as he smiled warmly at us. “Well, details like that don’t matter right now! I bet you guys want a warm bed and a shower, right?” All three of us nodded as one, and the acting-director chuckled softly, as did Da Vinci. “Go back to your rooms and get some rest,” he finished.

“Yes, that plan sounds absolutely wonderful. See you later, Doctor,” Mash said, and Ritsuka said something similar.

“Thanks for helping us out, Doc. Make sure you get some rest too,” I suggested, noticing the bags under his eyes. I had the feeling that he had rarely left the command center since we were sent off days ago. Behind him, I saw Da Vinci giving me a subtle nod in approval.

“Yeah, that’s not a bad suggestion. Good night, Jacob,” Doctor Roman said with another soft chuckle. I then left for my room along with Mash and Ritsuka.

* * *

We didn’t make it too far down the hallway before Mash stopped. Her room was closer to the Rayshift room then ours, it seems. We also stopped and looked at the pink-haired girl.

“Oh, and Ritsuka Senpai, Jacob Senpai,” she said before giving us both a small but warm smile. “Good work today. I will see you both in the morning,” she added, bowing slightly. I returned the smile with ease.

“You too, Mash.”

“You feeling okay?” Ritsuka asked next, concerned for his Demi-Servant, who nodded once.

“Yes, just fine. A Demi-Servant’s body has incredible strength, endurance, and self-healing abilities. I’ll be back to top health in just a short while,” Mash reported proudly. “The two of you, though, need to rest and get some sleep,” she added solemnly. Then her shoulders slumped, and she released a soft sigh, closing her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Ritsuka asked, his concern returning swiftly. Was she in pain?

“No, I was just thinking of Gilles de Rais,” Mash said with a shake of her head, eyes still closed. “I knew of his history, or so I thought. His heart was broken by Jeanne’s death,” she said before opening her eyes. “In our history, he became a mass child-murder. The France we saw was the bloody France he wanted. An appropriate sight for such a murderer. But still, even then, his real wish was for Jeanne d’Arc to live. That was the source of his rage, and his hatred. A pure rage that could destroy a country…” Mash paused, a curious look on her expression as she stared at the two of us. “Raw feelings are powerful, aren’t they?” She asked. We looked at one another, seeing that the other had something they wanted to say. I gesture for Ritsuka to go first.

“He was human, after all,” he said with a simple shrug that had Mash humming to herself.

“Because he was human. Amadeus said something similar, if I remember correctly.” She looked crestfallen, unable to meet our worried gazes. “I don’t have the experience they do. I don’t have those deep feelings, or a heart that can handle them,” she admitted, and the words tore at my heart. I had suspected the girl had grown up rather sheltered, but not to this extent. She finally looked up with a soft, rather adorable blush as she looked at Ritsuka. “But I’d like to learn them if I could. Even if I don’t understand, I can learn a little at a time. I think that’s what Amadeus was talking about.”

“Well, good thing we’re here to help,” Ritsuka said kindly, and I nodded.

“On that note, Mash, allow me to part a word of advice about what you saw back there,” I said softly, crossing my arms and leaning back against the Chaldea logo painted against the hallway. Ritsuka and Mash both looked at me curiously as I continued speaking.

“Love is a weird, strange, and marvelous phenomenon. It can give someone great power, and great weakness. It can give the power and desire to create and sustain, or to destroy and burn. A mother sacrificing her life so that her children could live can be because of love, or a man mourning the death of a beloved can destroy all that he can see in the name of love.” I paused and saw that the two were still gazing at me in confusion, and I laughed under my breath quietly. “I suppose the point I am trying to make is that you should never underestimate what love can cause someone to do, for ill or for good.”

Neither of them said anything, but finally Mash nodded her head slightly, a look of comprehension now present. “I think I understand a little more now. Anyways, it is late, so I will see you both tomorrow. Good night,” she said as she opened the door and entered her room, the door closing quietly behind her. I turn to Ritsuka, pushing myself off of the wall.

“I’ll see you in the morning as well, Rits,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good work out there, man,” I said, and Ritsuka’s cheeks flushed in pleasure at the compliment.

“Thanks. You did the same as well. Good night and pleasant sleep.”

“And to you as well.”

* * *

Outside Chaldea, at the very limits of the protective magnetic fields that kept the ones inside safe from the destruction of humanity, a lone armored figured sat cross-legged in the snow, unaffected by the bitter cold. Her sword was buried blade first into the snow as she stared at it, her horned helmet covering Mordred’s face once more. She had only the howling wind and the familiarly-chilling snow around her to keep her company, but right now, at that very moment, that was more than enough for Mordred, as a single word charged with heavy emotions slipped from her lips, heard only by the speaker as the wind drowned it out.

“Father…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done. A little of 6,000 words here. This may have been one of the most difficult chapters I have ever written, at least, from an emotional stand point. At one point I had to make a donut run at my local Harris Teeter and ate the entire box of a half-dozen because I needed a pick-me-up. That said, I know that it was worth it. This is Fate, and Fate does a marvelous job at making you feel the feels. Poor Mordred, though. She is my favorite anime character of all times, and so writing these kinds of scenes for her honestly hurts me slightly. At least I can take some comfort in the knowledge about how I plan on starting her and Jacob's romantic relationship by the end/interlude of the Second Singularity. Whose looking forward to that? :)
> 
> Now, some other things. Writing this Singularity has given me some insight on what the rest of this story will look like, and what I might need to change from the original plan. However, unlike in the game, we won't be jumping straight into one singularity the next day after completing the previous one. Therefore, the next two or three chapters at least will involve moments in Chaldea.
> 
> With that said, here are the questions of the day: What was your most favorite chapter/scene (or one of them at least) for this arc? What do you feel that I did very well at doing, and what perhaps do I need work on?
> 
> Thank you all for reading both the chapter and this note, and I hope you enjoyed reading! Eagerly awaiting feedback, comments, and all that good jazz, and I will see y'all in Chapter Twenty-Six!


	26. Knight of Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob has another dream-memory of Mordred, and the two have another talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished this chapter a day early! Honestly, a little nervous about how it's going to be received, but I hope you all enjoy it nevertheless! :)

_I quickly recognized the signs that I was in another of Mordred’s memory, and braced myself for another restless night. Standing in front of me was the Mordred I fought alongside, standing proudly in her armor as the final rays of the setting sun shone over the ramparts of the castle she stood in, undoubtedly Camelot, the fabled home of the Knights of the Round Table and King Arthur._

_Alone in the courtyard, the blonde knight had her helmet retracted, allowing for me to see the unfiltered awe and adulation in her emerald eyes as she gazed at a crowned and regal figure standing up at the turret of one of the corner towers, staring off into the setting sun. An ermine-trimmed blue cloak fitting of a member of royalty trailed down from their shoulders. I wasn’t able to see much, but somehow, I knew that was King Arthur._

‘My king is perfect. The King of Knights has no greed. One only needs what one will use. Unnecessary things are a nuisance. He has no dreams. He also does not need them.’ _I could hear Mordred’s thoughts as if they were my own. Suddenly I felt a presence, as did Mordred, as a familiar voice I loathed to hear addressed the only occupant of the empty yard._

_“Mordred,” Morgan Le Fay said as she appeared from a cloud of shadows, stepping out between an alley between two of the various buildings surrounding the clearing. She sounds stern, disapproving, and frustrated. “For how long do you intend to keep playing the role of a knight?”_

_Mordred whirled around, and I could feel her surprise and discomfort at seeing her mother. “Mother?”_

_“You are the heir of King Arthur.” The words caused Mordred to stiffen in shock, revealing that she mustn’t have known that fact. Morgan continued speaking though, holding her arms out before her dramatically as her voice rose. “Your life is also proof of his existence. You are the child of the King!” Morgan finished. Mordred stared wide-eyed at her cruel mother._

_“Me?” She asked numbly, before turning back to her king and father. “I am King Arthur’s…son?” Mordred hesitated, nervous, before a sudden gleam of boundless joy filled her eyes and a smile graced her lips as she repeated her mother’s words, who had vanished behind Mordred’s back. My eyes narrowed at that, but then the scene shifted._

_Now I was standing next to a large circular table to the right, and once again my shared bond with Mordred and her memories told me that I was by the famed Round Table. The windows to the left of me, showed the dying rays of the son casting the room in a foreboding hue of reddish-orange. The atmosphere felt tense, and for good reason as I turned to look at a startled Mordred. In front of us was King Arthur, though for some reason I could not see the face of the king._

_“You won’t recognize me as your son?” Mordred’s voice was filled with disbelief, staring at her father unbelievingly. So, this was Mordred’s rejection, wasn’t it? A moment that defined her, and one that I had wondered what had truly happened that day. “That is your answer, King of Knights?” Mordred asked in a trembling voice._

_The King didn’t even speak, turning his back on Mordred and walking out of the room. All respect I had for King Arthur shattered at that, as did Mordred’s. The knight next to me began tremble in her armor, her breath shaky as she glared at the back of King Arthur._

_“I was happy just being in your shadow,” she finally said, looking down at the stone floor. I could feel a mixture of hate, anger, and more than anything else, hurt, building and flowing off of the future Knight of Rebellion. “Yet you never turned around to face me.” Still King Arthur did not react, continuing to walk. Finally, the dam gave way and Mordred’s emotions flowed forth without an ounce of restraint or control. She flung her arms out violently to the side._

_“King!” Mordred roared. “Then I will…! I will destroy everything you represent!” She declared, clenching her now-raised hands. “_ ARTHUR! _” Mordred howled with tear-filled eyes as the king vanished from my sight._

_Then all of a sudden, I am near the crest of a hill littered with the broken and bloodied bodies of countless knights. The sound of steel clashing against steel draws my attention to the sight of Mordred deflecting a strike from a knight before piercing his abdomen with Clarent._

_“Is King Arthur here?!?” The knight shouted in fury. “Show yourself, King of Knights!” Another knight charged towards her, his sword readied to swing at her. With a single slice of Clarent, his arm is severed at the elbow, and the wounded knight stumbled and fell down the blood-soaked hill._

_Mordred plants Clarent’s tip into the ground, leaning against the sword. The battle must have lasted for hours, and wearing full plate for that long must have been exhausting, for I can hear Mordred’s soft panting. She scoffs though before turning around, and my gaze follows to see the person who has caused the knight such pain. A sword whose hilt is colored royal blue and gold is clutched in his right hand._

_Mordred pulled Clarent out of the ground and gestured toward her father with arms outstretched. “Well?” She asked viciously. “What now, King Arthur? This is the end of your kingdom!” She adjusted her body into one of her ready stances, continuing her rant. “Face the consequences for not recognizing me as king!”_

_Arthur is silent, and I find myself unable to read his expression once again, and I felt disapproval build in my body, and it wasn’t coming from Mordred this time. Instead, he raised his sword, Excalibur, and held it in a two-handed grip. I can feel Mordred’s rage as if it were my own as she scoffed again angrily._

_“Is it hate?” Mordred demanded. “Do you hate me? You hate me because I was born to a witch?” Still her father said nothing, fueling Mordred’s rage. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she charged towards the one she had declared to be the ‘Perfect King’, Clarent glinting in the last rays of sunlight. “Answer me, Arthur!”_

_Arthur blocked Clarent with Excalibur. Even when alive, Mordred had great strength, it seems, for Excalibur was knocked out of Arthur’s hands. The two leapt backwards. Mordred gazed briefly towards the discard Sword of Promised Victory._

_“I have never hated you,” the King of Knights finally spoke. Mordred gasped softly and turned back. I gazed at the odd-looking object King Arthur held. It looked like a spiral drill. “If you want to know why I didn’t give you the throne…” Mordred readied herself for the king’s strike. With a sinking feeling in my gut, however, I suspect what happens next._

_More of feeling rather than seeing Mordred’s eyes widen as her father suddenly sprang forward in a blink of the eye. A sickening sound of metal tearing through metal and then flesh rings throughout the battlefield as Arthur runs Mordred through with the lance, the weapon tearing its way through my future Servant’s armor. The sight was horrifying, and worse, I could cry or scream. But I could feel the explosion of pain that Mordred felt at that moment. A burning, stabbing sensation that had me begging for both death and to be able to scream in agony. “It was because you lacked the capacity to be king,” Arthur finished rather coldly as Mordred’s helmet cracked and exploded, blood spraying out of the fatal wound. A horrified expression was one her face as she coughed up blood, struggling to say her final words._

_“Fa…ther…”_

* * *

I awoke with a loud gasp, sitting up in my bed, my hands gripping my stomach. Even though I know it was from a dream, nothing more than a memory, I still raise a trembling hand to my face just to ensure that is the case. The sight of a lack of red staining my palm calms me, but only slightly.

I start to take deep breaths, and force my body to stop shaking as I swing my body to the side of the bed, my bare feet just inches away from the undoubtedly cold floor. I lean forward slightly and cup my hand with my faces, my eyes closed as that final moment replayed in my head.

The mystery for why Mordred Pendragon rebelled was finally clear to me. All too painfully clear. The lashing out at the one figure she had in her life to admire and respect. The words of Archer back in Singularity F came back. About how he had said that Mordred had thrown a tantrum.

In a way, I could understand why he might have said that, but I disagreed completely. I wanted to address this issue, but I had promised not to talk about it with the English knight unless she wanted to. Talk about a case of backfiring, I suppose. Still, that’s one hell of a dysfunctional family, even for her era. I groaned into my hands before lifting my head, knowing that I won’t be able to fall asleep now.

Looking at the digital clock on my nightstand, I sigh to see what time the red digits are showing. 7:15 AM. Grumbling my displeasure at that, I slide off the edge of the bed and hiss slightly as my feet make contact with the cool tiles. I make my way over to the bathroom, pausing by the sword resting against the corner.

Much like with Jeanne’s parting gift, I had a hard time believing that this sword, this literal piece of history, was both now my own and in my room. It certainly wasn’t the style of sword I was used to when I had practiced fencing, but it worked pretty damn well in France, and so I would continue using it. Then I resumed walking into the bathroom, first to relieve my bladder, then to take a nice hot shower.

The warm steam wafting up off from the heated water felt good to me, and I closed my eyes leaning my head forward slightly as the warm water sprinkled down my back. It was probably somewhere between five to ten minutes before I had finished my shower, and then dried myself off with a towel bearing the emblem of Chaldea.

Walking over to the sink, I wiped a hand over the thin coat of moisture that had clung to the glass before grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste, marking the start of my daily morning maintenance rituals, as I liked to call them in my head.

Last time I called it that aloud? Well, let’s just say that my mom still gave me a funny look at the lengthy title I had come up with. But hey, give me a break, I was like seven years old.

By the time I had finished, all told I had spent about thirty minutes. I stifled the second groan of the day, instead settling to shake my head in disappointment as I made my way over to the simple wooden desk. On the surface rested my electronic devices I had brought, a pad of paper, and the piece of Jeanne’s flag. I click my tongue as I sit down and reach for one of those devices I had brought.

If I was going to have to wait for possibly another hour before Ritsuka or Mash might be up and ready to have breakfast, what better way to kill some time _and_ de-stress than by listening to some music?

I hum to myself as I power up my MP3 player and then scroll through the various songs I have saved on the device. Hmmm…..what to listen to?

Finally, I settle on Kenny Logan’s “Danger Zone”. Plugging in my headphones, I turn the music up to max volume as the opening strums of the song begin to blast into my ears. I lean back in the chair as I bob my head up and down to the beat, closing my eyes as I play an air guitar.

In my distraction, I jolted up into the air when I feel a warm hand gripping my shoulder. The quiet yelp that escaped was swiftly replaced with an exclamation of pain as both of my knees slam into the wooden bottom of the desk.

“Son of a…” I growl under my breath, ignoring the throbbing sensation in my legs as I yank my headphones off and look over my shoulder to see Mordred snickering in amusement at me.

“Is this going to be a pattern or something?” I groan as I power down my MP3 player before looking up at the smirk blonde.

“Well, stop letting yourself get distracted like that when I swing by and I’ll stop,” Mordred replied light-heartedly. The pain fading away now, I sigh good-naturedly at the Saber’s words before turning my chair around so I can look properly at the short blonde.

She was wearing the clothing I had paid for her to own. She appeared to be doing okay on the first cursory glance, but when I focused on her face, I noticed the bags present under her eyes. She mustn’t have slept well then, it seems. I also fight down the urge to finch at that moment as the cocky expression Mordred was wearing like she normally does was replaced with the one of pain as she was slain.

“How are you doing?” I say, rather bluntly. Maybe some tact would have been better, but this is Mordred. She seems to appreciate bluntness, or at least at times that is. No sooner had I finished saying those words then Mordred’s trademark smirk feel, replaced with a small frown.

“Well enough,” she said vaguely. Undeterred, I stare into her emerald eyes firmly. For a second, Mordred looked like she was about to tell me to shove it, before she released a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she sat on the edge of my bed, lightly gripping the fabric to either side of her.

“Okay, fine. I’m a bit pissed,” Mordred said gruffly, a defiant gleam still in her eyes. “I guess the things those two assholes said to me yesterday got under my skin better than I thought,” she admitted reluctantly, no doubt unused to the idea of sharing something like that to someone. Well, at least I won’t be having to give another spiel to her about how she can trust me and all.

“Do you believe in their words?” I asked carefully, maintaining a neutral expression on my face, which Mordred returns.

“Why don’t you tell me? When you looked at me earlier, you looked like you were in pain. So, tell me Master, what did you see this time?” Mordred said. So, I didn’t do as good a job hiding that flinch as I had hoped. I mull over how I wanted to say what I had scene in what was increasingly feeling like a volatile situation.

“I saw Morgan revealing your parentage to you, and what happened when you went to King Arthur with that knowledge,” I finally admitted. Mordred’s face darkened as she looks down with a scowl.

“So, then you saw the Battle of Camlann, didn’t you? My death?” The last two words are thrown out carelessly, serving as a reminder of what Morgan’s actions had costed the blonde who was now a Heroic Spirit.

“I did.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Go on, call me a traitor, or a monster. Tell me that you no longer feel fine with having me watching your back. Won’t be anything new for me to hear,” Mordred said in a forced bored manner, staring at me with a defiant gleam in her eyes. I let out a long sigh that has her relax slightly.

“For God’s sake, Mordred, you had one hell of a messed-up family,” I said the words that I had desired to say the moment I saw what Morgan considered to have been essential training for a younger Mordred.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Your mother is a, for a lack of better words, bitch. As for King Arthur…I can’t pass judgement on his character,” I said carefully, not forgetting the contradiction I had seen on how Mordred reacted to the topic of her father. Indeed, she tensed up at my use of the name, her eyes narrowed as if she expected me to insult her former liege but relaxed slightly when she saw that wasn’t going to be the case. Feeling encouraged, I took a deep breath before plunging on.

“As for your rebellion…I think that you were angry, and that you didn’t know how to handle it. It doesn’t absolve you, but it also doesn’t condemn your actions and words. Your….father…had his own choice that he made. He could have accepted you as his son but deny you the throne. He could have accepted you as his son _and_ heir. Hell, from what I saw and heard, he could have said why he was denying you any form of recognition,” I said in an even tone. Mordred said nothing, nor did she give away any indication of how she was feeling. The fact that she hadn’t left helped my confidence to continue speaking my mind.

“I have seen some of your memories, and I know you didn’t have anyone you could talk to. It was only logical that you would lash out

There was another long, awkward silence, and I waited to see if Mordred would say anything in response. With a soft sigh, I finally realized she wasn’t going to, and so another question popped into my head. “Your wish?”

“Huh?”

“Your wish for the Holy Grail. I know every Servant has one, even if it is not known to themselves. What was yours?”

“…..To be able to go back and pull the Caliburn, the Sword of Selection, out of the stone, just as my father did,” Mordred said in an unusually soft voice. I nodded encouraging. At last, another breakthrough. “I wanted to help my father out by relieving him of the burden of the throne, to make him happy,” she added, her voice stronger. I had a feeling that there might have been a story behind that, but that could wait for another day.

“Not a bad wish, if you ask me,” I said supportively. And honestly, a very sweet wish, though I think that I’ll keep that part to myself. Another silence falls between us, and I wait patiently.

I stare at her as she closes her beautiful emerald eyes. I pause for the briefest of moments as I fully register what I had just thought. What was that? Mordred’s voice prevented any further discussion.

“So, what does this mean then, Master?” She asked in a neutral tone, opening those vibrant orbs once more.

“It means that nothing has changed, other than the fact we talked about this,” I said with a simple shrugging, before rising up off the chair. “I haven’t felt a single shard of regret for putting my trust into you. Mordred, you haven’t acted in any manner that would threaten Chaldea, humanity, or myself. Do you intend to change that status?” I asked, deadly serious. Mordred shook her head once, her smirk slowly starting to return once more as she began to accept what I was saying.

As much as I enjoy having her as my friend and partner, my god can she be stubborn! And yet, I wouldn’t let anyone force her to change that aspect.

“Good. Then let’s consider the matter closed. If you want to talk about your past again, you know I am always willing to sit down and listen to you. In the meantime, let’s give the heavy shit a break and enjoy a nice, warm breakfast that will actually taste like food, hm?” I said, smiling a bit sheepishly as my stomach decided at that very moment to release a low rumble.

Mordred’s laughter at that finally dispelled the last remnants of tension and moodiness from our conversation only moments ago. The memories I had dealt with during the night began to fade, pushed towards the back of my mind to be replaced with more pleasant ones being formed between us. The blonde was still laughing as she got off of my bed, smirking as normal.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” I grumbled with my arms crossed, though I wasn’t being serious. She cocks her head

“You seem more relaxed then you were the past few days,” Mordred commented off-handedly, and I rolled my eyes at her.

“Well, not having to worry about keeping us all alive tends to help with that,” I shot back with my own smirk. “Now, come on, let’s eat,” I said insistently, before my stomach could betray me once again. I walked out the door, my friend and Servant close behind me as we headed towards the cafeteria.

Mordred seemed to be in better spirits now, and I felt a wave of satisfaction at helping my partner out, as a good friend should. However, there was still something bothering me, though.

_“So where did the ‘beautiful’ comment come from?”_

No matter how much I tried to push that away, the thought continued to pop into my head…

* * *

I couldn’t help but stare at the sheer number of plates before Mordred, containing a wide variety of good from scrambled eggs to even a small stack of pancakes. There was no way that anyone, not even a Servant, could actually eat that much food in one sitting….is there?

When we had entered the cafeteria, we had parted briefly, and I had found a table after getting a simple meal of scrambled eggs and a bowl of mixed fruit. I waited patiently for my partner to arrive, raising an eyebrow when she came with her arms loaded with a rather absurd number of plates, and I had made the comment of if she wasn’t having a moment where her eyes were more hungry than her stomach was. She had merely smirked before grabbing her silverware.

To a combined mixture of equal parts awe and horror, I watch numbly as Mordred _demolished_ the array of food before her. My hand clutched the spoon halfway between my mouth and my plate as I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

The few other staff members also having their breakfast had also stopped, unable to look away from the display. And of course, the knight across from me either doesn’t seem to realize what she has caused, or she doesn’t care. My money is more on the latter if I had to be honest, as I heard a pair of footsteps approaching from behind, finally causing me to look away to see who it was behind me.

“G-Good morning, Jacob,” Ritsuka created with a stammer, his smile frozen on his face as he dumbfoundedly gazed at the devouring Mordred. Welcome to the club, I wanted to say. Mash also stared as the Knight of Rebellion finished her meal(s?), shaking their heads in awe before sitting down next to us.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” I said, finally able to begin eating my own food now that Mordred had finished.

“Well, after breakfast Doctor Roman would like for us to swing by the summoning chamber. He wants each of us to summon a Servant, then use the next week or so to help them adjust to our other Servants already here,” Ritsuka said.

I hummed in approval. While the good doctor can be prone to panicking, when the time comes, he has proven himself to be reliable and trustworthy. “Sounds good to me.” I then turned to Mash. “So, what was it like, being outside Chaldea?” I asked the quiet girl. She gave me a soft smile before answering after eating a slice of orange.

“It was amazing. I had always wondered what the outside world was like. In fact, one of my biggest desires is to see the stars in the sky at night,” Mash admitted. Inwardly, I frowned at that newest nugget of information, all the while maintaining a smile.

“Well, how about once this mess is over, Ritsuka and I shall take you out sometime, and you can see the stars in the present? Maybe even see if Da Vinci has a telescope we could borrow?” I offered, and Mash’s smile widened, nodding eagerly. I turned to look at Mordred. “What about you? Would you be interested?”

The knight shrugged indifferently. “Eh, why not? I mean, I’m not exactly going to be in a hurry to return to the Throne of Heroes once this has ended, ya know?” She responded somewhat lazily, and I smiled again at that. Well, that’s nice to know. Hopefully, I could possibly give her a chance to experience the world like I would with Mash, a world beyond fighting.

It’s the least I could do for my partner.

The rest of breakfast passed by rather quickly, with idle chatter, jokes, and other such light-hearted things. Finally, when Ritsuka, Mash, and I had joined Mordred in finishing our meals. I look at the others as I grab my plates, eager to get going.

“Well, now that we are done eating, why don’t we go over and let Doctor Roman and Da Vinci know that we’re ready to see who is waiting to accept our call for help,” I said, standing up with a small smile, as my three friends also stood up, and together we began to head out for the summoning chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! A mixture of tones. I wrote this chapter with the intention of showing what Jacob is like, at least for now, when he isn't on a mission and therefore is under less stress. I also wrote it because I wanted to do a bit of a stretch of more light-hearted moments before we start the Second Singularity, hence why I mention the famed Pendragon appetite. Also, how did I do with planting the seeds? Trying to be a bit subtle, with Jacob realizing that he feels attracted to Mordred physically in addition to feeling kinda close to her already. Or did I muck it up? First time I'm putting serious effort and interest in doing a realistic romance starting lol. But yeah, what did y'all think?
> 
> Also, I am really glad to see that people seemed to have enjoyed the last chapter! :)
> 
> Today's question of the day and chapter: Who do you think the two Servants who will be summoned next chapter?
> 
> As always, thanks for taking the time to read my work, and I look forward to seeing feedback and theories on who is joining Team Chaldea, and feel free to leave any suggestions for romance building too! Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see y'all next chapter!


	27. New Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two more Servants join Chaldea's ranks, and Ritsuka asks Jacob to begin teaching him how to fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it has been three months since I first embarked on his project, and I don't regret it for a moment! Not much to say other than this is a shortish chapter (at least if you asked me) and one or two announcements below. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

“Ah, good morning guys!” Doctor Roman said cheerfully as we entered the summoning chamber. Next to him was Da Vinci with her typical mischievous-looking smile present as she waved casually in greeting. I nodded in response.

“Good morning, doc,” I said. “Is everything ready for today’s summons?” I asked.

“Yep! All we needed was for you and Ritsuka to arrive. Before we do that, however, I have something to say. While I am the acting-director for the duration of this situation, I am still the head of Chaldea’s Medical Department as well. I was hoping to get a chance to talk with the two of you before the next deployment,” Doctor Roman explained, sounding rather professional.

“Fair enough. When would you like to have these meetings?”

“I was thinking of doing it tonight after dinner, at least for you. I was hoping to do Ritsuka tomorrow. That is, if neither of you have any objections?” I shot a brief glance at Ritsuka, who was doing the same thing, and we exchanged a nod of agreement.

“Very well” I agreed, earning a soft smile from the ginger-haired doctor. Da Vinci released a polite cough finally.

“Well, while I am glad everyone is having fun, I don’t think it will be very useful to continue standing here and chatting,” the Caster chided us in bemusement.

“Right,” I said, rubbing the back of my head with a laugh. “Rits, why don’t you go first?” I said, and the Japanese youth nodded, his bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement as he walked over to the switch, before pulling it.

Instantly the familiar bright light and the three spinning bands appeared, indicating yet another successful attempt. In the back of my head, I wonder what happens if the machine is activated but a Servant doesn’t answer the call?

Before I could continue down that rabbit hole, however, the light began fading, and a petite figured could be seen, though their features are hidden. For the sake of Ritsuka’s mental health, I’m silently praying that it won’t be Kiyohime. The poor lad just isn’t ready to deal with that kind of….drama.

Thankfully, my prayer was answered as the new Servant suddenly moved forward, though non-threateningly at least.

The newcomer slammed into a startled Ritsuka before the light had even fully faded away as a familiar voice began speaking rapidly and joyfully.

“Ritsuka! Jacob! It is wonderful to see you guys again!” Marie Antoinette gushed. . Mordred sighed in slight exasperation, though there is not a single ounce of disgust in her response.

“It is great to see you too,” Ritsuka said as the Rider released her grip on him, smiling with a slight blush. Yeah, probably going to tease him about that sometime later. I could hear Mordred snickering from her position besides me, and I shake my head good-naturedly.

Yes, Marie’s presence here will be a most welcomed addition Chaldea, both on the battlefield and off it. The Flower of Versailles then turned to me. “Are Jeanne and Amadeus here as well?” She asked hopefully. I shook my head slightly.

“No, not yet. We’re about to summon one more Servant for the day, however, so fingers crossed,” I added as I walked over to the switch, the machine finished being reset. With a nod from Da Vinci, I gripped the metal handle firmly before pulling it down with a soft grunt, activating the machinery.

Once again, the room was filled with light, and I stepped back to stand alongside my first Servant as we waited for the newest one to arrive. I repeated my chant from earlier, especially hoping to avoid that demented Caster Servant responsible for the whole mess In Orléans.

As the light faded, I smiled widely at the figured before us, while the others made their own sounds of excitement (well, other than Mordred). She looked a little different this time, in that she had a simple dark blue cloak with a white mantle and a pair of giant silvery crosses stitched onto the blue was draped over her shoulders and back. Opening her turquoise eyes, she returned the smile instantly.

“Jacob! Told you my intuition was good, didn’t I?” She said happily. I couldn’t help btu chuckle at her words.

“You did indeed. Welcome to Chaldea, Jeanne d’Arc.”

“Hey again, Ruler,” Mordred said next to me, giving her fellow blonde a simple, lazy wave of her hand as a sign of greeting.

“Saber of Red,” the Ruler replied in an even tone that had Mordred chuckling a bit awkwardly.

“I’m guessing you have all your memories back this time?” Ruler nodded, a stern expression fixed to her features as she eyed the Servant.

“You mean such as how you exhorted me for Command Seals while dealing with Caster of Black’s golem threatening to destroy all life?” She asked dryly, causing me to look at Mordred with my own stern expression.

“Mordred…” I said in disapproval, thought in all honestly, I couldn’t find myself to be surprised about it.

“Hey, it was a Grail War!”

“Mordred….” I said again, this time in disappointment, though I could understand her logic.

“Well, I did help stop it,” Mordred grumbled, crossing her arms.

“That said, let’s treat that as being water under the bridge, _oui_? I look forward to fighting alongside you just as we did in Orléans,” Jeanne said, softening her stern expression.

“Yeah, you were pretty good out in the field,” Mordred said. I relaxed slightly, having tensed up slightly when Jeanne began looking critically at Mordred. Well, things looked to be going alright again, so that’s nice.

“How about Ritsuka and I show you guys around Chaldea?” I interrupted the reunion, getting an eager nod from both of the new Servants, with Marie’s being especially energetic.

* * *

The tour wasn’t exactly anything fancy, especially since most of Chaldea was still closed due to Lev’s treachery. We had shown Marie and Jeanne the locations of their assigned rooms, and both of the girls seemed very please with them, though Marie had asked if there were any rules about decorations.

I had paused at that question, before shrugging a bit sheepishly, replying that I would ask Doctor Roman tonight. Honestly, though, that seems like a good idea, seeing that this would take at least several months, if not more, to fix. If that is the case, then it would be rather unfair to deny the Servants who would answer Chaldea’s calls both now and in the future the chance of making their own rooms have a more personal touch to them.

Next was the small chapel that Mash had told me about shortly after Singularity F. The late Director Animusphere’s father had it constructed during his tenure as the first Director of Chaldea to satisfy the potential wishes of more religious-oriented Servants that might be summoned. To that end, the chapel wasn’t devoted to a single religion, to avoid the feeling of exclusion, but regardless of that approach, the serene-feeling room hadn’t really been used.

Jeanne’s eyes lit up though when she saw it, as I had expected it to. I had figured the Maid of Orléans would appreciate having somewhere to pray, seeing how her religion had formed a huge part of her history.

Then we showed the duo the training rooms, as well as a brief explanation courtesy of Mash about the various functions and uses one could have with them. At that point, an idea popped into my head, and I turned to Jeanne and Marie.

“So, now that we’ve finished most of the tour, would either of you be interested in requesting everyday-type clothing from Chaldea’s seamstress? Since we won’t be always on missions, and therefore probably spend a fair chunk of time in Chaldea,

“That sounds exciting! I would love to!” Marie said with her typical energy, while Jeanne nodded with a more serene smile.

“Do you wanna tag along, Mordred?” I asked, whose face went pale. The Knight of Rebellion shook her head frantically, eyes wide.

“No can do, master! I, uh, I wanted to try out some new techniques that I saw from, uh, Sasaki,” Mordred said hurriedly, trying to (and in my opinion, failing) mask the fact that Isabella unnerved the English blonde.

I stifled the chuckle by nodding. “Fair enough. So, I guess we will see you in the cafeteria for lunch once Ritsuka and I finish helping our newest members of the team?” I asked. Calmer now that she has avoided the seamstress Magus, Mordred nodded.

“Sounds good. Good luck,” she said before spinning around and heading in the direction of the combat simulator room, her hands in her pockets.

“Well, let’s go visit Isabella, then,” Ritsuka commented, looking at the others with a now-nervous expression. Ah, that’s right, he wasn’t there when Mordred and I first met the rather….eccentric lady.

Eh, I’m sure it will go well.

* * *

….So that was what Mordred had to deal with when I left her with Isabella. That hour-odd long appointment must have been one of the most awkward moments of my life so far.

It had started off fairly well, Isabella having been very genial and welcoming, and also not threatening to fillet the others. Either she was in a mood when I first met her, or she had been more interested in the two French Servants that had stood behind Ritsuka and I.

The orgasmic look she in her eyes at seeing the chance of having _two_ Servants to model on clothing was matched with the idle comment of how she just might have to ‘take’ Ritsuka and I one day. Thankfully, Ritsuka was just a tad bit too dense to understand either what the woman had said, nor why I had blushed fiercely at that bold statement, as had Jeanne.

Marie, of course, just rolled with it, and of the two, she seemed to have had the most fun throughout the entire duration. Thank god it was done now, and I need to have the doc give Isabella a psyche evaluation or something!

On the bright side, both of the French Servants seemed most pleased with their outfits.

Jeanne was dressed in an outfit that reminded me almost of a college or high school uniform, with a bark blue blazer jacket and matching pants, and a white dress shirt of sorts, complete with a dark blue tie. I felt that the outfit looked smart for the saint, and found myself wondering if there was a particular reason behind her choice of outfit.

As for Marie, she had chosen an elegant, white Sunday dress with red lace trimming. It was simple yet elegant, and rather befitting of the Servant.

As much as she makes me uncomfortable, there is no denying that she has skill and style.

“Looking familiar there, Ruler?” Mordred called out as she leaned against the wall outside the cafeteria, apparently having waited four the five of us before she went inside. Jeanne quirked an eyebrow at the shorter blonde.

“I could say the same to you,” the Ruler pointed out. Mordred shrugged lazily.

“Hey, if it works it works. So, how was the experience?” The question was asked for all of us, but I had a feeling she was mainly asking me as she was staring intently, an inquisitive glint in her emerald eyes. I walked over and rested a hand firmly on her shoulder, gripping the red leather softly.

“Mordred, I am truly sorry now for having left you alone with her last time,” I said, before letting go with a rueful smile. Mordred blinked once, then she released a bark of laughter.

“Ha! Guess that’s karma then, huh?” Mordred teased, and I shook my head. The Saber certainly did seem to be in better spirits compared to when I first saw her this morning. I suppose my words had lifted an invisible weight perhaps. I certainly hope so, and it did feel nice to be able to do something in return for the Servant that has directly saved my life multiple times.

Regardless, I smiled warmly at my partner. “So, how did your ‘training’ go?” I teased back, causing Mordred to fall silent with a glower before we all entered to eat.

Just as it was for breakfast today, our lunch was most pleasant, especially since this time Mordred didn’t have around fifty plates of food to demolish. A part of me still felt like I was dreaming at that moment. The conversation and mood were both light-hearted, mostly involving Ritsuka, Jeanne, Marie, and myself trading stories from our lives back and forth while Mash and Mordred listened in with various degrees of interests.

Therefore, I was unprepared when Ritsuka turned to look at me with a rather intense expression on his face. “I would like for you to start teaching me how to fight today,” my friend and fellow Master said, causing the table to fall into silence. Ah, I had been wondering when he was going to ask about that. Well, no time like the present, I suppose. Especially considering the circumstances we are dealing with. I gave Ritsuka a single nod as I swallowed the food I had been chewing before answering.

“Very well, then. Let’s see if Doctor Roman has any protective gear, and then we can start in an hour in the training room.”

* * *

The last time I had been in here, I had gotten my ass handed to me, repeatedly, by Mordred. Ironically enough, I was about to repeat that experience, but this time, I was going to be in Mordred’s sabatons, so to speak.

I rolled my shoulders before then cracking my neck, loosening my body. Opposite of me, a nervous Ritsuka had decided to copy my actions, clad in padded gear for protection. A quick explanation to Roman about Ritsuka’s request made when we were in France had soothed the doctor’s alarm at having been asked for such gear, which he then provided, though with a stern warning that we were not to seriously hurt one another. That, I had told Doctor Roman, was a condition I was more than happy to comply with.

That wasn’t to say that Ritsuka wasn’t going to experience some pain today, however.

While I preferred to use a sword, having greatly enjoyed the activity thanks to several years worth of fencing, my father had ingrained into me at a young age one of the cardinal rules for Magus: To be a Magus is to walk with death. That meant that he taught me self-defense at a young age.

Older and more renowned Magi family might look down at mine, and call us third-rate magi at best, but one shouldn’t have to rely solely on magcraft to defend one’s self, as I was to demonstrate personally to my friend.

A number of employees, as well as all our Servants, were watching us from either side. Good to know that in the thousands of years since humanity recorded its history, the idea of watching two guys beating the shit out of each other was still appealing somehow. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and instead focused on Ritsuka.

“I promised that I would teach you how to fight. That means knowing how to fight both with and without a weapon. Today, we begin that process with the step of learning how to attack and defend with just your body. Neither of us will be using magecraft. Agreed?” I ask, to which Ritsuka nodded. The kid’s got guts alright. “Good. Now, I want you to try to attack me. I will not move until you swing, so take your time,” I said calmly, causing my fellow Master to tilt his head slightly in curiosity before circling around me slightly.

Finally, with a yell, he charged forward, one arm pulled back in preparation to deliver what I think is going to be a right hook. Already, I could see some faults in his stance, giving me the impression that he was trying to copy the actions of actors or comic book punches. His angle of attack was clearly telegraphed the moment he had tensed up, and the fist he had made wasn’t the ideal way to make one for punching. That is, unless you wanted to damage your knuckles. Going to have to fix that as soon as possible. I continue to wait with a neutral expression as he throws his clenched fist forward with a grunt.

I tilt my head to the side, and the fist pushes harmlessly by my ear as I lashed out with my own response. I slammed an open palm into his solar plexus, sending him back a yard or so, before shifting my weight into my legs, and lashing out with a roundhouse kick. My foot connected firmly against him, sending him sprawling backwards with a pained yelp.

“Ow! W-what was that?!?” Ritsuka groaned, propping himself up off the ground as I bent down to give him a hand.

“Savate,” I said as I hauled him back up onto his feet. “Or rather, a bastardized form of it. My grandfather learnt the basics about it in the forties when he was in France. He taught my dad, who taught it to me. Personally, I prefer using a sword,” I said, releasing him.

“Then why aren’t we focusing on that first? I highly doubt that kicking a Servant would work,” Ritsuka said. I shook my head at that.

“Two reasons, really. The first is that you and I are no match for a Servant, or at least, not in a direct confrontation without Servants. The second reason is that we have only six days or so before our next deployment. We can start on swords when we return, but I’d rather focus first on teaching you how to defend yourself in some way. Makes sense?” I asked, finished with my explanation. Ritsuka nodded after a moment.

“Good to hear that. Now, as you have felt, this might be a bit brutal, and I will apologize for that fact in advance. However, I’d rather you feel sore and tired from sparring and taking hits than seeing you bleeding out on the ground,” I said sternly, before softening my expression. “Now, let’s get back to it. I want you to watch me, as I show you how to make a proper fist…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did y'all think? Hopefully I am not making Jacob feel like he is OP even with his currently subpar use of magecraft. Also, it's great to have Marie and Jeanne back in the story!
> 
> Now, for announcements: This chapter and chapter Twenty-Eight are probably going to be short. I had some inspiration for the Second Singularity coming up, plus I still intend to write a separate story series covering the events between missions that are not relevant to the main storyline (e.g. how Saber Gilles would react when he is summoned and discovers that Jeanne is already at Chaldea). Therefore, it is kinda difficult at the moment, though once the romance really gets started between Jacob and Mordred at the end of the upcoming Singularity there will be more of a focus on that. Hope no one will have a problem with that? Well, that and also I am writing this with a partially-broken computer screen (RIP).
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: What were the best (and worst) rolls you have ever made in FGO? Mine was when I got Mordred with a single Summoning Ticket.
> 
> The second question is: What are you most excited/hoping to see happen in the second singularity? Not nessicarily going to change much of what I write, obviously, but I like to know what is going on in the mind's of my reviewers ya know? :)
> 
> As always, thanks to each and every one of you guys and gals who have read and reviewed my stories. I hope you enjoyed Chapter Twenty-Seven, and I look forward to seeing y'alls feedback and all! Until next time!


	28. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred reflects a bit on her Master, and Jacob talks a bit with Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in hindsight, I probably should have just kept this in Chapter Twenty-Seven. Oh well, lesson learned lol. Hope you enjoy this brief chapter, and just consider it less it's own chapter and an add-on for the last chapter.

Mordred watched with a raised eyebrow as Ritsuka was sent skidding backwards by another kick. Jacob certainly wasn’t holding back, it seemed. At least his training seemed far kinder than _hers_. Mordred’s lip instinctively curled upwards in a sneer for the briefest of moments as Morgan’s face appeared in her mind.

Most of her fellow Servants had left after an hour or so has passed by, as did most of the human onlookers. Jeanne and Mash stood a few feet away, but remained silent, watching the two Masters sparring. Unfortunately, it was the other group of people still in attendance that were starting to become a source of annoyance.

The way that some of the young female staff members were giggling at the two reminded her of Camelot. Seeing the Knights of the Round Table sparring against one another had almost always turned into a spectacle, especially for the ladies of the court. Mordred had found them to be vapid airheads at the best of times. Thankfully, only once did one of those pests try to court the blonde knight, having been under the impression like everyone else that she was a man.

After a rather brusque dismissal, no one tried to court the knight. In all honesty, it was still worth the mild rebuke she was given by the king the next day.

Another round of giggles and hushed voices from the bunch of brats had Mordred rolling her eyes before concentrating at seeing her Master demonstrating some kicking techniques.

“He’s quite invested in this,” Jeanne suddenly remarked softly. Mordred grunted in agreement.

“He’s a big fan of teamwork and all that stuff, after all,” Mordred replied, still watching Chaldea’s two Masters as she spoke. It certainly didn’t hurt that Jacob had continued to show many similarities with Kairi. In all honesty, if the guy began dressing in a black leather jacket, wore shaded sunglasses even at night, and began smoking, she would begin wondering if her former Master had somehow been reincarnated.

“You seem protective of him,” Jeanne suddenly said, causing Mordred to snap her head to the side, staring intensely at the calm Ruler.

“Yeah? Shouldn’t we all be? If they both die, humanity is gone. If humanity is gone, we’re gone. I’ve already died once, technically twice. I’m not exactly interested in living up to the saying of ‘third time’s the charm’,” Mordred snapped defensively.

“Be that as it may, I was just commenting on how you seem to be more focused on protecting your Master, and not just both of them,” Jeanne replied unflinchingly. Mordred scoffed and shook her head, looking away from the now-smiling Ruler. Instead of answering, Mordred refused to respond to that comment, having grown both bored and disinterested in it. She noticed that Ritsuka had managed to dodge a kick her Master had sent at him, and managed to tackle Jacob to the ground, though her Master quickly recovered with a laugh and a wide, pleased smile as he congratulated his ‘student’.

What nonsense was she implying? Jacob was a friend, and a damn good one at that! She wasn’t exactly in a hurry to have to see the end of his company, so of course she would protect him! The fact that he was willing to look past her actions in life certainly did help.

So just what was Ruler trying to say, then?

The thought bothered Mordred as she continued to watch the two sparring, left alone in her thoughts until the session finally ended.

* * *

Apparently, the kitchen staff of Chaldea, which turns out to have been the only department to have been unaffected by Lev’s sabotage, had decided to make a celebratory dinner for the efforts of Ritsuka, myself, and our Servants.

With much gusto did I devour a medium-rare ribeye, the center of the beef a cool red, and I savored every bite. Mordred had gotten two steaks, while Mash and Ritsuka had settled on hibachi-cooked rice and beef, and the two seemed to enjoy it.

Just as much as the desire to save and reunite with our families bolstered the spirits of Ritsuka and myself, the sight of such pleasant scenes further helped reinforce our moral. Despite a number of minor bruises, the unenviable result of training to fight, Ritsuka seemed extra energetic. No doubt that was because the feeling of being less useful than everyone else was being counteracted. By the time I had called today’s round of training over, the Japanese Master had learnt how to block blows with his forearms and to throw fists properly. A very good start, especially considering how he had tried to punch me when we started. He was a good lad, his heart in the right place, and I am proud to call him friend.

Sadly, I couldn’t stay for too long, and after I had finished eating, I politely made my excuses before heading out for my meeting with Doctor Roman.

I rapped my fist against the closed door of Doctor Roman’s office a bit nervously. The reason why was not so much for any particular reason, but rather just my nerves playing up. I could hear the muffled sound of movement, and took a half-step back from the door as it slide open, revealing a smiling Roman.

“Ah, right on time, Jacob! Come in, come in,” he said cheerfully, gesturing at me, and I stepped inside, taking a quick look at his working station.

It looked like a chaotic mess in a way, and yet it felt organized at the same time. Stacks of papers covered the desk that was pushed against the wall, and I could see a mixture of clear and somewhat messy handwriting. Mission reports, perhaps?

Doctor Roman gestured at a pair of chairs in another corner, sitting down in one, and I sat in the other, looking intently at my boss.

“Okay, so, first thing’s first, Jacob. This conversation will be kept between us, and only us. Second, right now, I am not the acting-director of Chaldea, but a doctor, so feel free to share as much or as little as you want. Does that sound agreeable to you?” I shrugged but nodded, curious to hear what kinds of questions the man had for me.

“Great! So first, let’s start with some simple questions. How are you doing? I don’t mean at this moment,” Roman added hurriedly as I titled my head in slight confusion. “I mean, how are you doing overall? Are you finding yourself adjusting well to Chaldea, stuff like that,” he explained, resolving that brief bout of confusion.

“Ah, ok. I think I am doing well under the circumstances,” I said slowly, and the doctor nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard, having angled it slightly so as to prevent any temptations or attempts to read whatever it was that he would be writing. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for Mordred’s insistence on confronting me after Singularity F, I don’t think I would have been as much help as I suppose I have been.”

“So, would you say that you and Mordred are close?” Roman asked. I nodded once.

“Yeah. At least, I would like to think so.”

“I do, too. The two of you seem to have a good work chemistry, just as Mash and Ritsuka have between them. A Servant and a Master who work very well together is a most formidable pair,” Roman commented.

The conversation continued along these lines for the next five or so minutes. I had a feeling that, in addition to being the standard procedure for this kind of thing, Doctor Roman was trying to ease me into this, before he began asking more serious and heavy questions. Sure enough, it appeared that was the case.

“How are you coping with witnessing Olga Marie’s death?” Roman asked rather kindly. I sighed and bit the corner of my lip. A part of me instinctively wanted to say that I was fine, and that I wasn’t letting it affect me. Considering how I lost my composure at Caster Gilles, however, that would be a lie.

“With difficulty,” I finally admitted, sighing once more. “My parents always told me that I had a bit of a protective streak. No one can argue that what that bastard did to her was beyond cruel, but it was horrible to see it first-hand and do nothing.”

“I see. Do you think it has impacted your decisions while in France?” Roman asked without judgment, writing another thing down on his clipboard. I hesitantly shook my head.

“No, I don’t think so. Or at least, not seriously,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to lose any of our teammates. That doesn’t mean that I am convinced that we can win without loss,” I admitted, reflecting on the loss of Marie only a few days ago.

Even though she was back with us, the memory still hurts. Roman hummed softly, saying nothing for a minute or two before finally breaking the silence. “What do you intend to do if you come across Lev?” I felt my face harden, as a cold fury gripped my chest tightly

“What would I do, Doctor Roman? I will make him pay,” I vowed solemnly, unwilling to waver from this goal, short of allowing it to distract myself from aiding in our efforts to save humanity. “What else would I do?”

* * *

Far away from Chaldea, in a place outside of time and space, seventy-two shadowy figures stood in a circle, deep in discussion.

“The defeat of Demon-Lord Gilles was unexpected.”

“You made a mistake in not truly finishing the job.”

“This is of no consequence. I will be going to the Second Singularity, and deal with matters there personally. This is not a setback, only a delay,” the first voice responded in a mixture of what humans might call confidence and arrogance. They were not humans, though, and so the ideas of human terms mattered not.

All voices fell silent as a new voice spoke up. It sounded like it had a reverberation, speaking not as a single voice but as if of many.

“Ensure that you do, Flauros. In the meantime, we will continue moving forward. You will leave now, however. Understood?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. The plan is proceeding as intended. That _will_ continue to be the case. These two ‘Masters’ are nothing more than lucky insects, who will be crushed by the next Singularity. They can only delay us, and soon they shall not be able to do even that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done. Not much to say really since I consider this a combination of the two. Only real questions I got are whose ready for Nero, and what did y'all think of Mordred's thoughts in this chapter?
> 
> As always, thanks for the love and support, and see you guys and gals in Chapter Twenty-Nine (which will be a full-length chapter like mine normally are)


	29. Eternal Madness Empire: Septem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company begin their journey through the Second Singularity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! Hope you enjoy the return of proper-length ones, and see you below! :)

“Today’s the day,” I said to myself, putting on my hat, having finished getting dressed and all that mundane jazz. Once more the week had gone by rather quickly, and before I knew it, it was mission time.

Today was the day we were to be deployed into the second of the singularities. I was adjusting my belt for the third time at least, the sword rattling softly in its scabbard. Seeing that I was able to return with it from France, I had decided to carry it with me for future deployments. Despite further lessons with both Medea and occasionally the newly-arrived Amadeus, I was still somewhat below-scratch in regards to my magcraft, though I was certainly improving.

Still, I couldn’t shrug off the uneasy feeling that had settled at the bottom of my stomach, hence my nervous fidgeting.

A knock on the door caused me to cease fiddling with my belt, and instead turned to the doorway. “Come in,” I said, curious to see who it was. To my non-existent surprise, it was Mordred, back in her armor, smirking as always. “Ah, good morning, Mordred,” I said pleasantly, smiling at the blonde.

“Morning, Master. Finished getting ready yet?” She asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, knowing that I was nervous. It was also a gentle tease about how long I’ve taken to get ready. To be honest, I had expected this to be the case. Perhaps it is just my nerves acting up now that I have experienced one complete singularity already?

“Yeah, I am. Did the others send you to fetch me?” I asked, casually crossing my arms before me. Mordred nodded with a lazy expression.

“Yeah, they did. Now, let’s get a move on! It’s been kinda boring since the only other Saber here hasn’t been interested in sparring, and I want some more excitement!” She said eagerly, giving me a toothy smirk that left me smiling even as I shook my head in mock exasperation.

“Alright, alright, let’s get going then,” I said with a soft chuckle, turning off the lights in my room and closing the door before heading to the Rayshift chamber with Mordred by my side.

* * *

Ritsuka had been very lucky when he had made his summons two days ago, both attempts yielding Servants. Gilles de Rais (thankfully in his saner Saber version), and Chaldea’s first Archer-Class Servant. To my amusement, Mordred had cursed the instant she saw him, calling him ‘Archer of Black’, though he had revealed to us his True Name. Chiron, the fabled centaur who had trained many of Greece’s most celebrated heroes. While I hadn’t gotten to interact much with the very human-looking centaur, the few moments that I have had have given me the opinion that his reputation as a worthwhile mentor was extremely well-deserved, especially since he had offered to help me teach Ritsuka how to fight after we fixed the Second Singularity.

When it was my turn to roll, however, I was somewhat less successful. To the befuddlement of everyone, including the local genius we referred to as Da Vinci, all that had appeared was a bowl of what Ritsuka had told me was spicey mapu tofu.

Da Vinci had picked up the bowl before anyone else could react, declaring her interest in discovering just what the hell had happened there (my words, not hers), before I tried a second time. To my pleasure, Amadeus had answered, who was in equal parts shocked and overjoyed to discover that he had been reunited with Marie once again. I personally found the unlikely pair of friends to be adorable, even if there wouldn’t be a romance blossoming between the two.

“Morning everyone,” I said as Mordred and I entered, having been the last to show up. Marie, Jeanne, Amadeus, and Gilles had been clustered around one another, the four apparently having been in an engaging conversation. Sasaki and Medea appeared to be trading verbal blows to one another…which is about normal. Seriously, I have been trying to find out the specifics of their Grail War, and even Chulainn seemed reluctant. Speaking of the blue devil, so to speak, the Irish Lancer leaned rather casually against the far wall, engaged in a conversation with Chiron.

“A good morning to you too, Jacob,” Ritsuka said as he walked over, Mash close behind.

“Good morning, Jacob Senpai,” Mash said as her own greeting. I smiled back at the ever-polite and demure Demi-Servant as Doctor Roman walked over, Da Vinci close behind. (Mordred and I had started a bet the other day to see if the two would end up a couple by the end of this mess, considering that they were almost constantly together even when relaxing).

“Good morning. Now that everyone is here, we can start the briefing,” Doctor Roman said, stifling a yawn just like Da Vinci just did. It seems that the duo had spent another long night studying the retrieved Grail again.

“Where are we going this time?” I asked, one hand resting on the hilt of my sword instinctively.

“You will be heading to Europe in the first century. More specifically, you will be going to the great empire of Ancient Rome. You will be teleported into the capital city of Rome. Once again, I am sad to report that the location of the supposedly existing Holy Grail is unknown to us. Furthermore, be aware of the possibility of historical changes occurring there. I know that is rather vague, but that’s all that we have been able to gather for now,” he finished apologetically.

“Not a problem, either way, we will locate it,” Mash said confidently, and I found myself nodding in agreement. Mash’s words seem to have cheered up the doctor, too, as he smiles at her.

“Right, that’s the spirit. Right, so this will be similar to the last mission: You’ll reach and correct the singularity, find the Holy Grail, and either retrieve or destroy it. This goes without saying, but there are almost certainly going to be Servants present when you arrive. Hopefully, some will be friendly like Jeanne was.”

“Doctor, I have one question. May I ask it?” Mash asked politely, and Roman nodded without hesitation, allowing the Demi-Servant to continue speaking. “Hostile Servants and neutral Servants…is there any way to distinguish them upon detection?” She asks.

“Yeah, preferably before they try to murder us?” I added a bit dryly.

“Unfortunately, we can’t provide such an exact answer. At least, not yet. Da Vinci is working on it though. However, we can speculate on each situation using observable data from the command room. I will warn you guys whenever there’s a 70% or great chance of hostility. Otherwise, we will mainly be able to provide energy and life signatures and assist in directing you all towards them.”

“That’s not too bad an alternative, all things considered,” I mused aloud. Ritsuka looked at Mash with a curious expression.

“Did you ask because you wanted to try to avoid battles?” He asked quietly, and the pink-haired girl nodded.

“Yes. Strategically speaking, it’s best to avoid unnecessary battles.”

“Well, it’s a nice thought. Fortunately, we won’t be going in alone, with just the three of us. For one thing, Mordred would probably shove my head down my throat if we left her behind. Isn’t that right?” I said, earning a playful leer from the blonde Saber.

“Damn straight.”

“Very well. In that case, let’s begin the Rayshift. Good luck, and I will contact you once you arrive.”

I made my way over to the same Coffin unit I had used last time, adjusting myself so that I could fit into it comfortably whilst bearing a sword at my side. Before the glasses closed, I called out to the Knight of Rebellion as she and the other Servants entered the other Coffins. “See you on the other side,” I said.

“See ya there.” Then the glass lid closed, and I closed my eyes as I felt the Rayshift procedure begin…

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I looked around. The land was somewhat hilly, but lush with bright green grass and shrubbery, looking like a typical serene countryside. The air felt fresh, and the sunlight warmed my body. It felt nice, honestly. I wasn’t about to let down my guard, however. After all, if someone was to ask me, I would say that one of the most dangerous parts of a Rayshift is the arrival.

What wasn’t nice, however, was the fact that we were not surrounded by buildings. As Mordred and the other Servants appeared, they began to form a defensive square of sorts, while Mordred and I waited for Ritsuka and Mash to appear, which they quickly did. The former was once more in her black and purple armor, the massive shield that gave her the Servant class designation as a Shielder leaning against her arm.

“Well, looks like we all made it here in one piece,” I said. I looked around, confused as to why we were in the hills, and not the city. On the bright side, there weren’t hordes of skeletons charging towards us or wyverns diving down form above, and we were all together.

“Indeed. The feel of the wind, the scent of the earth…” Mash said in a rather awe-struck tone, looking intently at our surroundings. “The vast blue sky…it’s strange. I’ve seen it on film so many times, but just standing here….it’s so much more vivid,” Mash said, sounding a bit uneasy. I frowned, and from the corner of my eyes I saw Mordred doing the same, but it was Ritsuka who broke the uneasy silence Mash’s words had caused.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sounding worried. “You’re breathing deeply.” Mash blinked, her eyes wide in surprise.

“Huh? Was I?” She mumbled, before shaking her head as she recovered her composure, blushing slightly still though. “I-I see. I’m sure I was doing it without thinking. I just felt overwhelmed by the surroundings. In France, it was really just one shock after the other. So now, it’s like I’m finally able to see this landscape properly,” Mash explained, and I relaxed slightly. I tensed back up slightly as I heard movement nearby. Looking around, I saw nothing, and I looked back at my three friends, only to jump back slightly in surprise as I saw another face now present.

Mash’s companion/pet(?) had appeared on her shoulder. “ _Fou_ …” Fou chirped. “ _Kyu, kyu?”_ He barked, as if asking a question. Ritsuka and I, however, merely stared at the dog-squirrel-cat thing.

“So, it seems that you tagged along again, huh?” I said, shaking my head slightly. My fellow Master, on the other hand, was having an entirely different reaction to this latest development.

“D-Did you just pop out of Mash’s chest?” Ritsuka stammered, red-faced. Mash released a soft ‘eep’ and blushed, her free arm instinctively crossing over the aforementioned area.

“Looks like the critter is being a little stowaway again,” Mordred said, giving Mash a chance to recover.

“He prefers the outside world to that cramped base,” she replied to the Knight of Rebellion. “I can agree with that sentiment. While the battles can be scary, it makes me happy to discover new worlds and experiences such as this.”

“Looks like he isn’t the only thing to show up again,” I butted in, looking skyward as I pointed towards the circular anomaly we had seen in the last singularity. Well, we might not be in the city of Rome, but at least we can confirm that we were in the singularity like intended.

 _“Testing, testing….can you guys hear me?”_ Doctor Roman’s voice filtered through the commlink.

“We hear you loud and clear, Doc. We have a slight problem?”

 _“Slight problem? What do you—Oh, I see. This isn’t Rome,”_ Roman mumbled in confusion, a sentiment I shared with the others. _“That’s weird. I just ran a scan of the area. It looks like you are a few miles or so away from the city…”_

“Was there perhaps an error in the coordinates?” Mash asked. “Is the era correct?”

“ _No, the era is definitely correct. We are in the first century AD, during the reign of Nero Claudius, the fifth emperor of Rome.”_ And one of the most infamous, if the historical records of the time could be fully trusted. _“Still, this is very strange. It’s saying that you are about fifteen miles away from where you should be. Why did you guys end up so far from the capital. Despite the poisoning of Empress Aggripina last year, Nero isn’t in his dangerously declining years yet. It’s an era where the emperor is loved, and the city of Rome is prosperous…or at least, that’s what should’ve been awaiting you.”_

“Master, do you hear that?” Mordred said suddenly, her emerald orbs narrowed as she tensed her body, Clarent appearing in her hands. I strained my ears, and at first, I didn’t hear anything. Ritsuka and Mash also tried to listen, and Doctor Roman kept quiet, not wanting to distract us.

Finally, I swore that I could hear the sounds of shouting and metal smashing against metal. Something that felt most out of touch with the atmosphere of the area we had arrived in was.

“Is there a battle nearby or something?” I asked Mordred, but before the blonde knight could answer, I spoke hurriedly into my commlink. “Doc, can you do a scan to see if there is a large cluster of human life signatures nearby?”

 _“Uh, yeah, sure, just stand by…yes, there is a large mass just over the hill near you. There shouldn’t be a battle at this time, though!”_ Roman reported frantically, and I frowned at that.

“That means it is a historical anomaly. We need to check it out. It might be a good place to start looking at what is happening,” Mash suggested.

“Right. Let’s go!”

* * *

“Yeah, this is definitely abnormal,” I commented numbly, my jaw hanging open slightly, a similar expression on Ritsuka and Mash’s faces. Two small armies were engaged in a pitched battle, all dressed like Roman legionaries and auxiliaries.

It was a fight that pitted man against man. No beasts or undead, only mortals made of flesh and blood. Countless armored bodies lay deathly still across the field already, and I saw Ritsuka look away, his face turning a shade of pale green. I myself felt a bit nauseous, but after all that I had seen in France, it felt rather easy to tamp that feeling down. Mash activated her commlink.

“Doctor Roman, there is a large-scale battle going on. One side is overwhelmingly larger than the other. The latter is defending the path to the city,” Mash informed the acting-director.

_“What can you tell me about the uniforms of the soldiers?”_

“Both sides look to be Roman soldiers. The larger force wears tie regalia of crimson and gold, while the smaller force wears it with a different design,” Mash reported dutifully.

_“Crimson, gold, and also purple were colors especially liked in Roman at this time,”_ Roman mused aloud. _“Mash, is there anything else that’s distinctive?”_

“Over there,” I suddenly said, noticing one of the combatants who looked far more different. Mash noticed and began to relay the sight.

“Yes, there appears to be a young woman, who is leading several groups that belong to the smaller force. She’s practically taking on the enemy forces on her own,” Mash reported in awe. “She is an extremely strong individual. Is she a Servant?”

 _“No, I’m not getting any readings on Servants in the area who aren’t yours. I am almost certain that the lady is a human of this era. The visual reception isn’t that clear on my end, but I swear she reminds me of Jeanne, slightly,”_ Doctor Roman responded.

“Well, I think our next course of action is clear. We must prevent the city from being overwhelmed,” I said, tightly gripping the hilt of my sword. Next to me, Ritsuka grunted a soft sound of agreement.

“Yeah. Let’s go help that woman.”

“About time we get to see some action again,” Mordred said excitedly, her eyes gleaming brightly in anticipation.

“Understood, Master,” Mash said at the same time to Ritsuka.

“Stay close to Mash. This is going to be a fight against men, not monsters or Servants. What they lack in individual raw strength, they still have numbers on their side. I will be staying close to Mordred as well,” I said quietly and quickly to my younger friend. Ritsuka nodded in understanding.

There was another reason behind my words I had just uttered. I didn’t want Ritsuka to have to possibly kill a fellow human. A possibility I myself was hoping to avoid, truth be told. Sadly, to achieve victory, at least on this day, that meant that we would have to kill, whether by our own hands or through the use of our Servants. I turned around to look at the others standing ready behind us.

“Chiron, can you focus on picking off officers?” I asked the Greek Archer, who gave a simple nod as he notched an arrow to his bowstring and pulled said item backwards, a slight glow in his eyes as he stared at the mass of soldiers fighting and dying below us. “Amadeus, Medea, can you cast spells and attacks to disrupt the rear elements of the attack force? If we play our cards right, we could cause them to rout from these attacks.”

“Very well,” the cloaked Greek Caster said simply, her staff appearing in her hands as she started to levitate slightly into the air.

“Time for them to face the music, as I believe people say these days,” Amadeus added, raising his wand. I turned to my Assassin.

“Sasaki, can you stay back with the three, and keep enemy stragglers from attacking them?” The Japanese Servant gave a simple nod, and I turned to the others. “Well, let’s go meet that lady. Forward!” I said, raising my sword as Mordred’s helmet slammed into place and she took off down the slope, intent on leading the charge. I turned to Jeanne, standing nearby, and we exchanged bemused expressions before charging forward, with Ritsuka and his own more melee-oriented Servants close behind.

Overhead, beams of magical energy rained down, and occasionally I could catch the briefest glimpses of one of our Archer’s arrows as they pelted the unsuspecting attacking soldiers. We hadn’t even engaged them in close-quarters combat and already I could see the effects that I had been hoping for were showing. Soldiers began to retreat, at first on their own or in pairs, but soon larger groups signaled the beginning stages of a full-blown rout.

The soldiers surrounding the woman we were heading towards roared in victory, dispatching the remaining soldiers who hadn’t fled. I stifled the soft sigh of relief at having avoided seeing Mordred and the others fight and slay men, while Mordred growled in frustration at being robbed of the chance to throw herself into a good fight.

“Don’t worry, Mordred. I’m sure there will be more fights that we’ll find ourselves in before the day ends,” I said in a wry tone as we slowed down, close enough to the victors that I didn’t want to appear hostile, sheathing my sword and gesturing for Ritsuka to follow me to the head of our group. It also gave me the chance to see that the four Servants responsible for starting the rout were already making their way over.

Some of the soldiers tensed, watching our approach with wary eyes. Their leader, a blonde woman with green eyes a few shades lighter than those of Mordred, planted her extravagant-looking sword made into the ground by her golden heel/sabaton-clad feet. She wore a rather interesting outfit, a combination of a military-style jacket with golden epaulettes on the shoulders. For some reason, she made me think of Mordred somewhat, if the tomboyish blonde wore her father’s hairstyle instead of her more fitting, rough-cut ponytail and bangs, and was bustier. The white-trimmed blouse she wore didn’t seem to adequality cover her chest, giving me the impression that she was a person of little self-modesty perhaps.

“Sheathe your swords!” She said, an air of regality in her voice. Her soldiers, who just seconds ago had been ready to attack us, instantly complied with her orders. “It’s over. Centurion, send some men to see if there are any more of those rebels. You, over there!” She said, pointing at Ritsuka and I, who had stopped while she walked closer to us. “I seem that you are responsible for that display just now. Are you reinforcements from the capital?” Before either of us could respond, however, the woman continued speaking. “I thought the capital was sealed off…no matter, I, Nero Claudius, fifth emperor of the Roman Empire, commend you!” She declared, causing Ritsuka and I to look at one another in mild bewilderment, before looking at the self-proclaimed emperor.

Well…this in certainly unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! The Emperor of Roses has appeared! In all honesty, I am really looking forward to writing Jacob and Mordred's reactions to Nero's mannerisms truth be told. I do enjoy Nero, though more because of her story and all and less of the appearance-pandering they pulled in Fate/Extra Last Encore. Also, whose enjoying the whole Fate/Apocrypha crew getting back together? I was trying to figure out which Archer-class Servant to use without breaking my self-imposed rule of not having a Servant from Singularities 1-7 be summoned until they have been met (i.e. Fran being summoned anytime after London), with the exception, of course, of the amazing Mordred. Emiya is not a character I am ready to use yet, in all honesty, so I went through the entire Servant database and ba-da-boom ba-da-bing, Chiron!
> 
> So, as you know, it's been a hot minute since I last updated my SummerFes story. The reason why is because I wanna focus on establishing Jacob and Mordred's relationship, so that might mean waiting until November or December, but hey, isn't there a saying about absence making the heart fonder or something?
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: First one, what is the most heart-breaking moment for you in all of the Fate canon franchise? The second one is, what is the happiest moment?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Looking forward to hearing feedback, comments of any form or shape, and of course, answers! :) Hope y'all have a lovely day and see y'all next time!


	30. The Emperors of Roses and Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company meet Nero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, took a few days longer than I had intended, but here she is! Hope you guys enjoy, and see you at the end notes!

“Umu! I see that you are surprised! Of course, of course. Very good. Be as surprised and amazed as you like. I shall allow it.” Nero said proudly, her hands planted firmly on her hips as she held her head high. It looks like she was taking our silence at her revealing of her name and title as shock, an admittedly accurate observation in this case.

Emperor Nero Claudius was a woman?

Somehow, the revelation was somewhat…underwhelming. Granted, it was still a surprise, but after finding out that Mordred Pendragon, the son of King Arthur, was also a woman (as much as she bristled whenever one called her such) kinda reduced the overall shock value.

All the while, Nero continued talking. “It doesn’t matter if you perhaps were once my enemy. I am merciful, so past mistakes are water under the bridge, as they say. More importantly, I must also praise you all for your weapons and postures. Umu!” She said brightly, nodding her head in approval, “I must say I like you. Very good, I shall allow you to fight by my side. Revel in the ultimate honor!” Nero said, almost sounding condescending to us, as she finally paused and looked at us curiously, giving me a few precious seconds of silence to process the mass of words she had just thrown out at us. And here I thought that Jeanne Alter had been a talker when we first met. At least she wasn’t trying to kill us, for now.

“Still…you people sure dress in a strange and varied fashion. Are you foreigners?” She asked finally, giving us a moment to talk. I nudged Ritsuka forward, having not forgotten my intent on letting my fellow Master try taking the lead, outside of combat at least. The Japanese youth bowed deeply to the Roman blonde.

“Yes, we are. More importantly, however, we are beyond words for your generous praise,” Ritsuka said in a humble tone. Apparently, while not answering her question, his words pleased the woman nevertheless.

“Yes, yes,” she said a bit dismissively, waving her hand lazily for added flair as she preened at the verbal kowtowing. Good call there, Rits. Very good call. “You may enjoy wallowing in the sweet sounds I utter,” she added rather vainly as Ritsuka straightened up. “At any rate, this victory belongs to us, thanks in part to your actions. I will reward you all handsomely!” Nero proclaimed, before her cheeks suddenly flushed slightly as a sheepish expression appeared for once.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” the emperor said in a softer tone. “I couldn’t help myself just now. Sadly, you’ll have to wait for your reward, seeing as at this moment I have naught but my sword on me. Worry not, however!” She said, raising her voice once more. “It will all be taken care of after we’re back in Rome. Now then, follow me!” Once more declining to wait for our response, the verbose blonde spun on her heels and retrieved her sword before she began moving in the direction of the city of Rome, her soldiers assuming a defensive formation around both her and us.

“I guess that we’re going along with them,” I said a bit dryly. Next to me, Mordred grunted, her helmet still covering her features, Clarent resting against her shoulder. I could sense her irritation even before she began speaking.

“…Does anyone else have the urge to punch that pipsqueak?” Mordred growled, and I had to cover my mouth with a fist to muffle the laughter her comment made.

“Just try to put up with it for now,” I responded as we started to move onwards, led by Nero and escorted by her men. Mordred groaned in frustration, earning a few more muffled snickers of amusement at her as Nero began talking again.

* * *

So, in addition to having learnt that the self-proclaimed ‘Emperor of Roses’ loved to talk, I discovered another fact about her. Nero Claudius didn’t walk. No, she _strutted_ her stuff, as some of my classmates would have said back in high school…along with some more vulgar words, most likely. It was certainly amusing, as the green hills became replaced with a more earthen and flat ground as we drew closer and closer to the city of Rome. So, this must have been the fabled ‘ _Via Appia’,_ the Appian Way, the grandest of the roads that all led to Rome.

We had been marching at a reasonable pace for roughly one and three quarters of an hour when Nero decided to call for a short break. After her soldiers had assumed a defensive perimeter around us, the Roman emperor walked over, a curious glint in her green eyes.

“You are indeed foreigners, but where are you from. Surely not Britannia. The Far East? No, that doesn’t seem likely, either,” Nero mused, and Ritsuka and I exchanged glances. Do we tell her we come from the future, or use the limited knowledge possessed by the Roman world about how vast the earth truly was?

“We come from Chaldea,” Ritsuka said, deciding to go with the more vague-sounding and less complicated option.

“Chaldea?” Nero repeated in a puzzled tone before cries of alarm rang out from the west of us.

“I am sorry to interrupt the small talk, but it looks like another group of enemies is trying to attack,” Mash said, readying her shield as the other Servants did likewise. Nero drew her sword, a mixture of a scowl and a sneer on her lips as she too looked westwards.

“Damn those restless United Empire fools! How dare they interrupt my beautiful voice!” Emperor of Vanity, much? “Let’s go! You!” She said suddenly, pointing to a now-startled Mash. “Very striking-looking girl, I order you to serve as my shield!”

“Huh? Uh…right!” Mash stammered, turning to Ritsuka with wide eyes. “Senpai, now we’re the ones under command somehow!” Mordred turned and looked at me pointedly.

“Orders, _Master_?” The Knight of Rebellion growled, putting on extra emphasis on the title before Nero could commandeer the English Servant as well.

“Push them back, but don’t pursue,’ I said. As Mordred and the other Servants began taking up offensive positions, I rubbed my chin with a low hum. The United Empire? I couldn’t recall there being such a thing during any of my Classics lessons in high school. Perhaps a major change? But if so, whose running them?

Damn it, all these delays are getting quite irritating. Maybe a quick route would be more effective this time? I hummed and turned to Mordred once more.

“Mordred, why don’t we give our companions a little demonstration?” I asked, noting the relatively small numbers of the enemy force, about a dozen and a half enemy soldiers. Scouts, perhaps? Mordred released a low chuckle, stepping forwards before taking up her familiar stance as her helmet began its process of separating, earning a gasp of awe from the blonde emperor at seeing the helmeted armored knight in our company was a woman. Of course, if Nero said that line of thought aloud, we would probably end up becoming enemies of the state or something after Mordred finished lashing out.

The allied soldiers standing to either sider of her moved away slightly, giving her a fair amount of space as the sides of her swords extended slightly, and chaotic red energy covered the silver-and-red colored broadsword once again.

“CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!” Mordred roared, somewhat excitedly, as she unleashed her powerful Noble Phantasm. The beam of raw energy rushed towards the scouts, enveloping them and destroying the enemy force in a single moment. The dust hadn’t even truly settled as Mordred walked back over to me, her face being covered, but not before I could see the satisfied grin on her face.

Well, I guess that I made the right call back there. The combination of dealing with Nero and missing a chance for a good scrap earlier must have been rather aggravating for the Knight of Rebellion.

“Somehow we’re out of danger once more. Truly, you all have ended up saving the day again,” Nero said with an earnest smile, which was quickly replaced with a rather childish-looking pout. “I’m sure it’s not uncommon to be outnumbered in war, but being on the inferior side is no fun. So tiring!” I could hear Mordred’s teeth gritting. Well, good thing Mordred isn’t going to have to be a diplomat or something in this case. Currently, that would be Ritsuka.

“Forgive me, Emperor Nero, but it’s not over yet,” Mash warned. “There’s more coming!” At that moment, my commlink, which had been silent since we joined the fray back in the hills

 _“A Servant!”_ Doctor Roman’s voice rang out loudly, startling Nero, whose head spun around as she looked for the source of what she surly thought to be someone invisible speaking as the doc continued talking. _“I’ve detected a single Servant. Get ready!”_

No sooner had he finished his warning then a muscular, tallish man with purple hair appeared, flanked by two dozen elite-looking soldiers, with twice that many regular-looking soldiers having followed and now engaging Nero’s followers. So, it looks like I was right about the previous group having been merely scouts, then. I focused my attention on the apparent leader of the group with narrowed eyes.

He had a red cape that looked rather tattered at the tail ends, and gold-coated armor. A pair of golden earring dangled from his ears. Aside from a pair of heavy gilded bracers, the newcomer’s arms were bare, revealing thick, bulging muscles. He stared intently at Nero with blood-red eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“—My beloved younger sister’s child.” His voice was deep and sounded somewhat raspy. Nero gasped in shock, taking a half-step back.

“U-Uncle!” Staring wide-eyed at the Servant, she shook her head fiercely, the long stand of blonde hair that pointed forward bouncing like a fishing rod that was reeling in a fish. “No…no, no, let me call you this now. You fool who inexplicably lost his way, aligning with the United Empire…Caligula!”

Well….talk about a touching family reunion. Caligula shook his head slowly as he replied. “My—My actions are destiny,” he said harshly, as if forcing himself to utter each syllable like he had never spoken before in his life. A Berserker, perhaps? “Give up…your life. Give up….that body….ALL OF IT! GIVE IT UP!” Caligula roared, tensing his body as his elite guardsmen also readied themselves.

“Uncle, how could you?” Nero asked, still in a mild state of shock even as she readied her sword. I cleared my throat rather loudly, my eyes focused on the threat before us.

“Forgive my bluntness, Emperor Nero, but your uncle will not listen to words at this moment,” I said, a bit brusquely. Nero blinked, looked at me, then back at the man she had just called her uncle.

“Indeed, it seems that way then…” Nero finally said, just before Caligula charged at his niece. With a battle cry of her own, the Emperor of Roses dash forward as well, displaying a surprising amount of speed, her sword readied to be swung. I turned to the Servants.

“Sasaki, Amadeus! Focus on those guardsmen. Mordred, Jeanne, support the Emperor!”

“You do the same as well, Mash and Chulainn. Marie, Gilles, Medea, Chiron! You four, help Sasaki and Amadeus!” And with those words, our first Servant battle in this singularity commenced.

* * *

Interesting fact most people might not know is that Caligula wasn’t the name the emperor Servant was born with. That would have been Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. Caligula was a nickname acquired at a young age, due to the fact that he wore the garments of a Roman soldier at the tender age of three years old when his father took him on a military campaign, the name given by the soldiers amused by the sight.

When the third emperor of Roman came into power, his initial reign was a peaceful one…for about six months. On the seventh month, he began the descent into madness that would become his enduring legacy even to this day. In a way, it was befitting that a man consumed by madness would be a Berserker-class Servant, for that was what he surely had to be considering his earlier mannerisms.

With a feral roar, Caligula leapt forward, charging at Nero. Mash was the first one to engage the Berserker, holding her shield before her, bracing her body for the jarring jolt of a Servant’s body slamming against it. The enemy Servant didn’t slow down, it seems, and Mash released a cry of alarm and surprise as two loud thuds were heard before she was suddenly sent flying backwards, skipping across the dirt before stopping. She hadn’t even slowed down the emperor.

Apparently, the Berserker used his fists, as there was still no weapon in his hands. Mash pushed herself up onto her feet with a groan, Ritsuka rushing over to help her. Thankfully, Caligula had little interest in us, mainly dodging the various attack launched at him with a surprising amount of dexterity. He barely even noticed the light scratch from Jeanne’s banner’s steel tip catching his left cheek before he shoulder-checked the Ruler, sending her skidding backwards as well as sidestepping a blow from Clarent.

Raising his fists, he slams them down at Nero. The Emperor of Roses leapt backwards as the ground upon which she had been standing on shatters. Caligula roars in frustration, and chases after his niece. I could see a frown on Nero’s face for a brief second before she suddenly became a blur of red and white, cutting and slicing furiously.

The Berserker used his bracers, however, to block the blows, and continued to lash out with his own attacks. No doubt a single, solid hit to her body by one of his fists would wreak havoc to her internal organs, and that was if she was lucky to survive the impact in the first place, seeing as how she wasn’t a Servant. The Servants that had been instructed to assist Nero in dealing with her assailant continue to try to land hits on the Roman Berserker, but the ‘Emperor of Madness’, as I would refer to him as, either ignores or somehow dodges the strikes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ritsuka’s Lancer preparing himself for an attack

Chulainn made a leaping jab at the Roman Servant, only to release a surprised cry of alarm as the Berserker ducked while grabbing the Irish Lancer’s right ankle. In a blink of an eye, Caligula spun in a circle before releasing, sending Ritsuka’s Servant flying into Sasaki, Marie, and Medea, knocking the trio off of their feet.

By this point, most of the soldiers that had accompanied the maddened emperor had either fallen or were distracted by our Servants and Nero’s own soldiers. Two had broken through, however, large, armored men bearing the short _gladius_ swords and large, square shields with an iron boss in the center that had become the iconic image of the Roman soldier. They were bearing down on Ritsuka and I. Turning to my fellow Master, I saw the Japanese youth taking up a somewhat still-clumsy stance. I shook my head, speaking quickly as I adopted one of my more offensive-oriented fencing stances: a two-handed grip on my sword.

“Ritsuka, stay back. You’re not ready yet,” I warned as a groaning Chulainn got up onto his feet. His red eyes widened at the danger. “Lancer! You take the one on the left! I’ll hold the other one off in the meantime!” And if need be, kill him to defend my friend, though I pray that today would not see that moment happening. The blue-haired Servant nodded, before turning into a blur of movement, slamming into the soldier I had asked him to take on, as I locked my gaze on my own opponent.

The soldier sneered at me as he drew closer, and we watched each other warily, circling one another, waiting to see who would make the first move in the first few opening seconds. Finally, the Roman soldier grew bored of waiting, and took a step forward, lashing out with his sword. I bring my sword up and deflect the probing thrust, before returning my own strike. The veteran warrior blocks the stroke with the edge of his wooden shield, and my blade cuts a small notch into the side as he tries to lash out at my exposed stomach the instant his defensive weapon caught my blow.

With a fierce tug, I yanked both my sword and myself backwards, and the deadly tip of his _gladius_ misses my shirt by a few inches. Furrowing my brow, I circle around the soldier, who does the same once more.

The fight must have been less than a minute long, and already it felt that it had gone on for far too long. Damn it, Cu, hurry up. The soldier must have noticed my discomfort, for he laughed and spoke in foreign language, his words unintelligible to me. However, his tone made up for that fact, taunting and cruel. I forced myself to not respond to it and simply maintain a neutral stance, a kind of pose that would give me the ability to either attack or defend at a moment’s notice.

With a growl, my opponent suddenly charged forward. I feel my eyes widen slightly, and I lash out at my sword. I was aiming for his chest, to force the man back, but at that moment he had decided to go low, and I feel a familiar sensation travel up my arm as my sword pushes through the exposed skin and flesh of the man’s throat.

I stared into brown, pain-filled eyes, feeling a wave of mounting horror building inside me. The soldier’s mouth was open, but a horrid mixture of gurgling and whistling of sorts was all he could manage, his teeth dyed red with blood as he clutched at his throat. I stumbled backwards, my hands trembling, but my body refuses to drop my sword.

I had killed before, multiple times. But this? This was the first time I had slain a fellow human. A person who may have had a family. God, what have I done?

“Yo! Master, you ok?” Chulainn asked, jarring me out of my stupor. I shake my head once, before flicking my blade to the side to clear off the blood as I gazed at the Lancer, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, half-truthfully. “Just focus on helping the soldiers with the others.”

“Right,” Chulainn replied, and I turned back to see the three blonde girls taking on the enemy Servant.

“Ruler!” Mordred shouted out to Jeanne, moving to one side. Quickly grasping the intent of her fellow blonde, the Ruler nodded and moved to the opposite, the two female Servants aiming to outflank the solitary Servant, even as he tried to land an undoubtedly-fatal blow on the rather-agile blonde girl he was focused on. Before either of them could strike and slay the Servant, however, Nero manages to break through Caligula’s guard, and a spray of blood flies behind him. It wasn’t a fatal blow, however, but it certainly wasn’t a minor scratch, if the way that Caligula’s face contorted in a mixture of visceral rage and pain. The Berserker leapt backwards, and Mordred and Jeanne flank the blonde Roman, weapons at the ready, though it looks like the fight is over, at least for the moment, as the Emperor of Madness began to open his mouth.

“Oh…oh,” Caligula gasped in pain, one hand clutching the large cut on his bicep as he stared fondly at Nero. “My beloved…younger sister’s….child…” Caligula panted, his face strained, though I doubt that we had truly defeated him, as no sign of his form fading away in a golden cloud of dust had been shown. Nero watched silently with pursed lips, looking somewhat distraught as her uncle continued speaking. “Why won’t you…give it to me? Why can’t you give it to me?” He asked mournfully, smiling sadly. “My beautiful…My…My…My…My…”

Whatever it was, we weren’t to find out, for the golden-armored Servant suddenly phased out of sight, startling Nero. “H-He’s gone?” She gasped, staring with wide eyes at the now-empty spot that only seconds ago had stood Caligula. “Uncle…”

“I can no longer sense his presence,” Mash reported, and I nodded dully at her, still feeling numb. “The enemy troops seem to be withdrawing as well.” Or rather, those still alive, which looked to be a rather paltry dozen, and none of them being Caligula’s ‘bodyguard’. It looked like a dozen or so of Nero’s own men had fallen defending their leader, with at least an equal number of wounded.

“My uncle must have been the commander of that battalion,” Nero mused, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.” That last part sounded more her own benefit, rather than something to share with us, so I activated my commlink.

“Doctor Roman?” I asked in a clip, brisk tone. I was forcing myself to not focus on the sea of nausea rocking around in the pit of my stomach, forcing my emotions down, and instantly drawing more than a few stares from my fellow Chaldean comrades at my sudden shift in mannerisms. I ignore them, however, at least for the moment.

“ _Looks like he turned into a Spiritual Body and left. Or fled, rather. Good work. If that Servant really is a Berserker like he seems to be, I find it hard to believe that he’d flee,”_ Doctor Roman answered. _“Could it be that he has a Master?”_ He asked. An excellent question, but before I could comment on that, I looked up to see Nero standing only inches away from me, staring in a mixture of bewilderment and fascination at the device on my wrist.

“Hmmm. Huh?” Nero hummed aloud. Mash stared at Nero in surprise, while I instinctively backed up a few steps.

“Wh-What is it?” The Demi-Servant stammered, puzzled just like the rest of us at her latest action. Nero frowned slightly, looking at the Shielder.

“There’s a man around here, who can be heard but not seen. From the feel of it, maybe another Mage like those two?” Nero asked, gesturing at Ritsuka and I. Well, it’s not that far off a guess, and it reveals something interesting.

 _“I’m glad you know of magecraft. Yes, we’re from an organization called Chaldea—”_ Doctor Roman began to talk before he, too, got to experience the dubious honor of being verbally runover by the verbose blonde.

“We can talk more about this when we reach the city! Come, we’re nearly there, and I wish for my men to have their injuries seen to as swiftly as possible, before more of those foul jackals show up!” Nero declared, and turned to her men as we all got ready to move on once again.

“Master?” Mordred asked softly, standing close by. She must have noticed my overall silence, and either she or Jeanne, or perhaps even both, had seen what had happened. The blonde Ruler stood a bit back, and I could clearly see the compassion and worry in her eyes. I shook my head subtly.

“Later, Mordred. Right now, let’s just get to the damn city.”

* * *

We had finished the rest of our journey unharried by further attacks. I was equally thankful that Nero’s constant talking distracted me from my actions, justified though they were. I could feel gazes of both Mordred and Jeanne landing on me periodically, but I kept silent. The shock had faded slightly, as had the horror, though remnants of both were still present in my system. I knew for a fact that one or both of the two Servants would confront me by nightfall over this, at the current rate at least.

Finally, we reached a rather awe-aspiring sight, the indication that our path along the Appian Highway has come to an end.

Before us stood a double-arched gateway, surmounted by bow windows and flanked by two semi-cylindrical towers, on which Roman soldiers stood guard. It appeared like it was one of the few, if only, entrances into the city of Rome through the strong-looking, thick stone wall that ringed the city.

“Unbelievable…” Mordred muttered next to me in shock, a feeling I was sharing with her. I had read a fair amount about Rome in high school, and knew we were looking at the _Porta Appia,_ now known as the Porta San Sebastian, but reading about something was far from the same thing as witnessing it in person. Nero turned around and flourished a hand towards the opening door to grant us passage, pure, unadulterated pride on her face as she spoke.

“Welcome, and behold the glory of Rome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! So this chapter took a little bit longer than I expected, but that was more due to wondering if I should have a little sub-arc of sorts over the next chapter or two were Jacob deals with the fact that in this Singularity he had to kill (and will possibly have to do so again) a human, and not a monster. Also figured that for once Mordred could try her hand at helping out and not have to be the one needing help for once lol! Not a bad idea, I hope?
> 
> Overall, what did you think of Caligula's fight scene? Also, for a more comedic reference, go on YouTube and type in Nero's Strut and you should find this short video from Fate/Extra Last Encore where they have staying alive playing over a compilation of clips of Nero strutting in a city.
> 
> For the question(s) of the day: If you could go visit any of the seven singularities alongside the protagonist in the Fate/Grand Order mobile game, which one and why?  
> Also, thanks to Zlatz's comment a while back, I'm interested in hearing some potential ship names for Jacob and Mordred. I have one of my own already as a possibility that I just came up with this morning, but I wanna hear from y'all too! :)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading another chapter, and I hope you enjoyed! Looking forward to any reviews, comments, feedback, and/or question answers/ Have a wonderful day, and see y'all next time!


	31. The City of Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company arrive in Rome with Nero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another chapter! Not much to say here, so I hope you enjoy and see you below!

Alive.

That was certainly the first word that came into my mind as we passed through the gatehouse and took our first steps into the ancient city of Rome. Men, women, and children of all ages were walking and running about. Shopkeepers called out to their fellow Romans, pitching their lines about having the finest or rarest wares in the city, be it clothing, food, or other items. A sense of normality seemed to pervade in the atmosphere all around us as Nero’s soldiers dispersed in various directions, soon leaving us alone with the Emperor of Roses.

Even if only for the moment, I could feel my spirits rise. It was truly a welcome relief to see a city acting like, well, a city, especially after the constant and consistent sights of death and destruction in towns like La Charité and Lyon, when we were in France, or the burning city of Fuyuki back in Singularity F. Turning my head slightly, I could see that I wasn’t the only one in our party taken in by the sights and sounds all around us.

Marie’s eyes were bright, gleaming with awe and excitement as she swivels her head so rapidly it was a wonder that she couldn’t turn it a full 360 degrees. This must feel almost divine for the Flower of Versailles, who had told Ritsuka and I that she was always eager to learn and experience new things. Next to her, Jeanne’s expression bordered that of dumbstruck, a reminder of her humble childhood. I couldn’t help but wonder how she would react if she ever got the chance to visit on of the major cities back home in America, like New York, or Las Vegas.

Nero’s chest was puffed out, hands on her hips as she watched our various reactions with a pleased glint in her green eyes. “Umu! Take a good look and be struck with awe!” Nero proclaimed, and I couldn’t find myself to find her boasting to be unnecessary, both as her status as the ruler of these lands and as a source of pride for the Roman. “This is my city, a glorious regime that even young girls extol!”

Next to her, Ritsuka nodded his head in agreement. “The city does seem incredibly vibrant!” My fellow Master gushed, wide-eyed, with an equally awe-struck Mash nodding in agreement with her Master. Nero laughed softly as she wove a hand slightly.

“Yes, yes, didn’t I tell you? After all, this is the greatest city in the world!” Nero declared, and again, in her defense, she wasn’t wrong. Granted, she didn’t know what the cities in the far east were like, so as far as she knew, this was the unassailable truth. Nero motioned towards us to follow her, and we did so, listening to the petite blonde all the while. “First, there was Septem Montes—such words exist like so," Nero said, mentioning the seven hills around Rome. “And that’s where it all started. Our glorious history began with out ancestors and those hills.” And murder and death. A lot of murder and death. Suddenly, Nero came to a stop, looking eagerly at a stall that was selling apples and other fresh fruit. “And—hey, shopkeeper, I’m taking one of these apples.”

I blinked at her actions, and the owner looked up suddenly, a standard-looking smile on the elderly-looking man’s face. “Welcome to my…” the man began to say before realizing who he was addressing. His eyes almost bugled out of their sockets as his jaw dropped down, and he bowed slightly. “Oh! Your Majesty! Please, take as you wish. Glory to the Emperor and Rome!” Nero smiled affectionately as the man stood back up, though standing a bit stiffly if I was honest.

“Shopkeeper, you don’t have to be so stiff,” she said gently as she grabbed a bright red apple and took a delicate bite out of it. Swallowing, she nodded in approval. “Yes, yes, this is a delicious apple,” she said, turning to Mash. “Why don’t you take one too? We’re returning from war, so no need to worry about bad manners. Sweet fruit does wonder for battle fatigue. My wounds won’t be healed by it, but my motivation will!” Nero said cheerfully before taking another bite from the apple she held. The Demi-Servant shook her head slightly.

“Oh, no thank you,” she politely declined the offer. “But I appreciate the gesture,” she added with an equally-polite smile. Nero nodded, before looking at Ritsuka.

“Then how about that man over there?” She asked, picking up a second apple and holding it out to my fellow Master. “They’re delicious, don’t be shy.” Ritsuka gingerly took the apple before biting into it, a satisfied look emerging on his face as he chewed.

“Thank you,” he said after swallowing, while Nero finished off her apple. Nero’s attention must have been focused on my fellow Master, as she had barely taken any notice of me. In all honesty, considering how I was feeling, I was fine with that.

“Ah, that was a wonderful apple. Umu. Once again, I must say that I like you. While I don’t know of this ‘Chaldea’ that you have spoken of, I cant ell that you are all good and honest people,” she said. Mash’s commlink chimed at that moment, and the Demi-Servant activated it, allowing Doctor Roman to address our erstwhile ally.

 _“It’s a relief to hear you say that, Emperor Nero. It might be the best for you to think of us as simply a mage and his pupils.”_ His very many pupils, then. Nero hummed in thought before nodding.

“Is that so? Then let’s forget this confusing talk of Masters and Servants. You are the mage’s pupils, and the mage speaks from a distant land.” I found it rather interesting that the blonde was taking this so nonchalantly. Then again, this was closer to the times where magecraft and mages were things that everyday people could witness without even batting an eye. Rather convenient then, to say the least. “You also said your goal is to aid me?” Nero asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yes,” Mash nodded. “That is a rather accurate way of stating things.”

 _“The center of the world, and the world itself,”_ Doctor Roman chimed in, excitement oozing through the connection between us as he began to speak faster. _“The name of the greatest empire that rules the world is Rome. In this era, there should be no threat to this city. The Grail’s influence must be upsetting events. If I am right, this era’s singularity is probably the existence of the great Roman Empire. An empire that greatly influenced later generations. Stopping its destruction would fix the singularity.”_

While well-intentioned, it was clear that the doctor’s words had confused Nero. Hell, I felt a little lost myself, and also finding myself wondering if Doctor Roman should have been a college professor considering the wealth of knowledge and passion he had shown.

“Mm…S-Sorry,” Nero finally said, her cheeks slightly flushed as she scratched the back of her head, her confidant persona cracking for just a second. “I don’t quite understand. Please speak a bit more in my range of understanding,” Nero requested, and we could hear Roman’s awkward laughter as Mash shook her head patiently, sighing.

“Sorry, he can be a bit too theoretical. I’ll explain. We seek something called the Holy Grail, a magical item with special powers. It’s causing a great many disturbances just by being here. There is a very strong possibility that the Grail is the true problem that is eating away at Rome.” Nero hummed again once Mash fell silent, a deep, contemplative look oner her features before she looked at us sternly.

“I see. This Holy Grail is damaging my Rome.”

“Yes. It must sound astounding to you…” Mash began to say before Nero cuts her off with, shaking her head once.

“No, neither strange nor weird. This Holy Grail. It strangely…worries me,” Nero said softly, before shaking her head again. “Never mind, a needless concern of mine. It’s just a nightmare I had once. Right, come with me. We can talk freely and in-depth about this in my home,” Nero said, before a loud clamor had us looking further into the market place we had stopped in. “Wait, what? Is there something wrong here?” Nero asked.

“H-Hey! What’s this?!? What are you people doing to my shop?!?” Another elderly-looking man was crying out in despair as a half-dozen roughly-dressed began ransacking the area. Other vendors were gathering their stuff frantically, wishing to avoid being robbed or otherwise terrorized next. Nero’s eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed as she trembled slightly in indignant rage.

“How dare they do this to _my_ Rome! To _my_ people! Are they enemy spies? Either way, it’s unforgivable!” She roared, drawing her sword. She sounded rather murderous, though it was in the interest of protecting her people. However, it was too soon to witness more killing, at least if you asked me. Thinking rapidly, I walked over to the Emperor of Roses, bowing my head slightly as I hear Mordred following close behind.

“I beg your pardon, Emperor Nero, but I humbly request that you allow for my knight and I to deal with these ruffians,” I asked politely. Surprised yet pleased, Nero nodded, and that was all I needed as I turned to Mordred. “Don’t use your sword. There’s no need for any more death today,” I said grimly. The Knight of Treachery nodded, and then she cracked her knuckles. Behind us, I could hear Nero addressing the others.

“Young man, I wish to inquire if you know what your dour-looking companion has in mind?”

“Just wait and see.”

* * *

One of the bandits noticed our approach, and shook their apparent boss by the shoulder, pointing towards us.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Now we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way, please leave the market. You’re causing a scene,” I said in a rather genial, though forced, tone, a disarming smile on my lips. The half-dozen ruffians all looked at one another in disbelief, then back at me.

“Go fuck yourself,” the leader spat at my feet. I could feel Mordred stiffen next to me, but I nudged her, shaking my head subtly. Not yet.

“Quite an elegant response, truly,” I drawled. “Okay, then let’s cut to the chase. You lot _will_ be leaving this street. It’s been a long and tiring day for my friends and I, and I have no interest in playing nice to a bunch of thugs. So, you can either leave here voluntarily, or you can be dragged out of here, and to a jail cell. The choice is yours,” I said, crossing my arms defiantly. I kept my body loose, though I am still ready to lash out.

The six men exchanged incredulous looks at one another before the leader glared at me before suddenly charging forward. I allowed him to approach within striking distance before I suddenly deliver a firm roundhouse kick to the base of his jaw. A loud crunching noise could be heard, along with a cry of pain, as my boot-clad foot smashed the joint of his jaw.

Dropping his weapon, the thug fell onto his knees, clutching his jaw. I calmly looked at the other five men. “I guess you lot want to go with the second option, huh?” I said dryly, sighing in disappointment as they looked at one another, anger now in their eyes.

“Get ‘em!” A skinny man with scars on his cheeks said, and the rest of the gang surged forward, just as Mordred positioned herself in front of me protectively. The first fist to be thrown at her is caught with her armored left hand, causing the owner to stare incredulously at the Saber’s helmet, before she forces the back of his fist to contact with the bridge of his nose, breaking it. A ‘gentle’ kick to the chest sent the injured man flying backwards, slamming into the leader, and leaving the two sprawled on the ground.

A third man wielding a club tries to slam said weapon into the side of Mordred’s head, but the Knight of Rebellion scoffs loudly as she blocked it with the vambrace on her right arm, before driving her left fist into his gut, bending the man over as a stream of spittle flew past his lips.

I wasn’t able to see anything else, as the fourth and fifth men tried to rush me from either side. Activating my Magic Circuits, I simply close my eyes and throw my hands out to either side, focusing on the moisture between the three of us, before imagining them expanding to one another and solidifying. I open my eyes as I hear two loud yelps of surprise and alarm, seeing that I had succeeded in coating the feet of both thugs in ice.

“Not bad, Master,” Mordred said, as she walked over and grabbed the two flailing ruffians, before slamming their heads together, knocking them out. At that moment, a dozen or so lightly-armored men began to surround us, members of the Roman police, or whatever they called it, as they began carrying away the six bandits, and we walked back over to the others.

Nero beamed at Mordred and I, clearly pleased at our display. Honestly, it felt good to be in a fight against someone and _not_ kill them.

“Umu! That was a most impressive display! You have my thanks in protecting my people. Come, let’s return to my residence!”

* * *

Nero’s residence was truly a sight to behold. Regal, elegant, expensive. These words and more echoed in my mind when I first laid eyes on it. It wasn’t her infamous ‘golden house’, but it was no less fitting for an emperor. Said emperor guided us to the central room, which appeared to have originally been used as both a dining room and what we would now call a living room. In addition, however, it seems to have gained a new role, if only temporary: a war room.

“Now then,” Nero said, settling down in a regal-looking chair at the head of the table we were around. Over it was a map of the Roman Empire. The blonde ruler gestured for us to also sit around the table, and thankfully, there were just enough chairs for us to do so. To Nero’s right sat Ritsuka, and I next to him. Mash sat on Nero’s left, with Mordred across from me, finally retracting her helmet, and allowing for me to see her gazing at me intently. I shook my head slightly, reminding her that we will talk tonight, and then gazed at a most serious-looking Nero.

“My Rome is currently endangered. My great empire’s territories are now, vexingly enough, ripped apart and scattered all over,” she said as she gestured at the map. Looking at it, I noticed that there were a number of circular wooden pieces, bearing one of two symbols on the top. One of them was the famous S.P.Q.R, _Sen_ _ātus Populusque R_ _ōm_ _ānus,_ nestled between two golden wreathes on in a red field. Those pieces must have represented Nero’s forces, and were focused mainly on the lower half of Gaul and most of the Italian Peninsula. Of the North African and Hispaniola, the pieces there bore three poorly-drawn golden eagles against an imperial purple field. ”On one hand, there is the true Roman Empire, that I rule over. The area centered around this capital, Rome. On the other hand, there is an alliance controlled by multiple so-called ‘emperors’, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They declared themselves to be the ‘United Roman Empire’, when they stole half of my empire,” Nero said angrily, jabbing a finger at the pieces that weren’t hers.

“What can you tell us about them?” I asked softly, my eyes studying the map. Nero sighed in frustration.

“The United Roman Empire is, sadly, a mystery to us still. No matter how many scouts I have sent, no matter how skilled they were, none have returned. Even the location of the capital where these fake emperors gather is unknown to us,” the Emperor of Roses admitted. Mash tilted her head slightly in curiosity as she looked at our host.

“Multiple emperors, you say?” She asked.

“Imposters, actually. In my eyes, they’re just a group of treacherous bandits, and…” Nero paused, looking unsure of herself, before she shook her head. “No, it’s not worth mentioning. Just rebels spreading their vicious lies.” Was she trying to convince us that whatever she was hiding were lies, or herself? “Like I said, they call themselves emperors, when they are nothing but pretenders.”

“You looked trouble,” Ritsuka interjected. I said nothing as Mash shot my fellow Master a warning look.

“Senpai…” She began to say when Nero raised her hand, cutting off the Demi-Servant once more. Mash, demure and polite as always, didn’t even appeared bothered by this treatment. The blonde Roman stared intently at Ritsuka.

“No, it’s fine. You saw one of them before. Caligula, the enemy general. The man who singlehandedly slaughtered most of my forces before you arrived. He’s one of the traitors who call themselves ‘emperors’, as well as being my uncle,” she finished, the same troubled expression on her face as when we had faced off against the enemy Berserker.

“ _Shouldn’t he be dead already?”_ Roman suddenly asked, Mash having left on her commlink.

“Yes, dear formless mage. That is correct,” Nero said solemnly. “Even our Court Mage was killed by Uncle Caligula and his conspirators. If he was still alive, I am sure the two of you would have gotten along. He boasted about how he had overcome death.” Mordred snorted at the irony in that statement, and Nero frowned at the interruption. “In truth, he did show me some impressive spells. And yet, he was killed by the blade of one of these ‘emperors’. A master of spells who shouldn’t have died, and yet dead he is now. Slain almost effortlessly,” Nero said bitterly, a mournful look in her eyes.

 _“To easily beat a mage of this era,”_ Doctor Roman began to say, sounding immensely troubled by this news. _“That’s no ordinary human. It’s a Servant,”_ Roman added, rather unnecessarily, seeing as how we had already established the fact that, but I held my tongue.

“That must be causing the historical anomaly,” Mash instead said. “One of these ‘emperors’ must have gotten ahold of the Grail.”

“ _It is highly likely that is the cause of this era’s singularity,”_ Roman responded in agreement.

“Honestly, the United Empire is very strong. Violent battles are occurring all over, and in the meantime, the people suffer. I’ve dispatched all my serving viceroys and generals. I have thrown nearly every soldier I can at them, and yet, and yet, their power has remained undiminished. Recently, an expeditionary force of theirs pressed in on the city, even managing to get inside briefly. I was barely able to drive them out with the few troops I had on hand. I hate to say it, but it showed me that this situation is beyond my ability to destroy on my own,” Nero paused, and chewed on her lower lip for a second, before looking at Ritsuka, then myself, with new-found interest. She straightened up, resuming her air of nobility, speaking not as a lady, but as the voice of Rome.

“Therefore, I order. No, I _implore_ you! Become my generals! Then, Rome and I shall assist you in obtaining the Grail!” A generous-sounding offer. It was not unlike the partnership we had originally formed with Jeanne when we first ran into her. I hummed softly, looking at Ritsuka, who was looking back at me. I nodded at him my consent before looking at Mordred, silently asking if she had anything against the idea. She merely shrugged in boredom while Doctor Roman continued talking.

“ _Such a heaven-sent proposal!”_ The acting-director proclaimed excitedly. _“It seems we have a common cause.”_ Mash nodded, looking across the table at her Master.

“That’s right. What do you think, Senpai?” Having already signaled my approval of the idea, Ritsuka grinned excitedly at Nero.

“Do we get a salary?” The urge to stomp on his foot was strong, though I appreciated his attempt at levity. To my mild surprise, Nero nodded solemnly.

“Of course. As soon as the United Empire is beaten, I shall give you what you desire,” She promised. So, in other words, we will be gone before we get anything. Eh, no biggie. “I shall grant you, Ritsuka, the title of viceroy, and your dour-faced companion” Alright, that title was starting to become annoying. “the rank of praetor, as well as reward the work you all have already done. Rest well tonight. I shall prepare quarters suitable for your ranks and for your entourages. Oh, yes! Will the invisible mage require one as well?” She asked.

 _“Don’t worry about me,”_ Doctor Roman replied in a thankful tone. _“Supplying rooms for the others will be enough.”_ He paused before speaking again. “ _By the way, Your Majesty, have you by any chance heard of the name, Lev Lainur?”_ Amongst the older members of our Chaldean team, the air grew tense. I instinctively gripped a section of the table, squeezing it tightly as my knuckles went white at the mention of that blasted traitor.

“Lev?” Nero repeated, unaware of my reaction, it seems. “No, I haven’t. Who is he?”

“A treacherous piece of scum,” I said, trying not to hiss or shout as the numbness from before burned away, to be replaced by the grip of white-hot wrath.

“He is a mage of our era, who betrayed Chaldea and all of humanity. He seeks to destroy both,” Mash supplied helpfully as I forced myself to relax. “There’s a chance that he is in this era. Although, I don’t know if he has revealed himself, or taken any action,” the Demi-Servant added. Nero stroked her chin, looking deep in thought.

“A mage from a foreign land? Hmmm,” Nero hummed softly before finally looking at us. “It’s only a rumor, but someone says they saw a foreign-looking mage on the frontlines only a few days ago.”

 _“It’s possible,”_ Roman said, hesitantly. _“Your Majesty, I have a request,”_ he asked humbly.

“Speak.”

“ _I’d like for my pupils to be deployed as close as possible to the frontlines.”_ The doctor’s words had Nero titling her head slightly.

“I don’t mind, but, will Jacob and Ritsuka be okay?” Mordred opened her mouth, probably to either tell the petite blonde to stuff it or something, before Mash interjected once more. Apparently, she was our other diplomat for the day, and a pretty damn good one to boot.

“Yes,” she said politely, though there was a clear sense of firmness underneath. “Lev Lainur is our enemy.”

“We owe him some payback,” Ritsuka added, displaying a rare scowl. My own was already on display as I stared firmly at the now-silent Nero.

“Director Animusphere _will_ be avenged,” I growled. Nero looked intrigued by our reactions, before nodding.

“Very well, then. Nero Claudius will honor your request. I shall pray to the gods and the divine ancestors of Rome that your enemy will be defeated.” She then gives us a wide smile, standing up. “But first, a feast before you rest! While it might not be as grand as usual due to the war, it will still be a feast where I shall spare no efforts. Viceroy, Praetor, Mash, do you drink? We have something imported from the Orient!” The Emperor of Roses said excitedly, bouncing on the backs of her sabaton/high-heels. Mash blink, wide-eyed at the energy that was reminding me of Marie, who herself was staring excitedly at her fellow ruler.

Well, looks like the Rider is going to get along just fine with our hostess, it seems.

“Oh, uh, no, I don’t drink, thanks,” Mash said, while Ritsuka shook his own head. Nero stared inquisitively at me, and I too shook my head.

“The food will be more than enough, Your Majesty. If we have to fight tomorrow, I will need a clear head,” I said, bowing my head slightly at my erstwhile boss. Huh….now I have two temporary bosses. Strange.

Still, the vibrant blonde began to summon servants, the ordinary kind mind you, and I sat back in my chair, half-listening to the various conversations as we waited for our meal.

* * *

The food we had been served had been most impressive, even if most of it tasted a bit like ash. Still, I felt full, and grateful to Nero. Annoying though she might be at times, she was quickly shaping up to be one hell of an ally.

I leaned back against the chair provided in the rather extravagant guest room I had been given. For all of her flaws, Nero had been rather generous, and helpful, since we first met her. She also hadn’t shown to be cruel or indifferent as most depictions of Nero do, though perhaps that could still be the case, seeing as how we weren’t in the final years of her reign.

I shook my head and tossed my cap onto the desk in front of me, though it was certainly nothing like the desks back home. It was a rather simple flat, table design, though made of richly-colored wood. Sighing, I run my right hand through my shaggy hair, idly wondering if I should consider trying to cut it myself, or maybe turn it into a ponytail. It was certainty getting long enough, and if Mordred could do both of those things growing up, surely I can too, right?

The thought brings a brief, tiny smile to my lips, though that soon fades, to be replaced by glazed-over eyes and a blood-stained mouth.

I had killed a man today. While it wasn’t in cold-blood, nor had it been a defenseless or innocent man, the fact that I had committed what many considered to be one of the most heinous of actions still remains. Or, is it the fact that I will undoubtedly have to enact that very deed again that is the cause of my gloom?

We had been lucky back in Orléans and Fuyuki, in that our opponents had been either monsters, undead, or Servants. Creatures that were evil, and that needed to be killed. Spirits given physical form once again, and who didn’t truly die when defeated. That was what we had been dealing with.

Now, though, we had to deal with fighting members of our own species. God, this was a mess amidst a mess! I shake my head, trying to escape the mental rabbit hole I was skirting besides, when I hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Is aid softly, turning around to see Mordred walking in with her own arms crossed, for some reason out of her armor. Eh, Mordred does as Mordred wants. She gazed at me in concern and determination, frowning slightly, before speaking.

“Alright, Master, ready to talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Hope it isn't too bad a cliffhanger! What did you guys think? I am a bit worried I am over-stressing the trauma part for Jacob, but after next chapter it won't be as huge a focus considering that Mordred is going to do her best, awkward though it might be, to comfort her ally. Random fact, my adopted sister had suggested that I should have a comfort sex scene for this, but obviously that isn't happening lol. But hey, at least it is a good point to further the romance, right? Also, as a sneak peak, the next chapter is going to either be mostly, if not completely solely, focused from Mordred's point of view. Of course, a small part of me is freaking out over writing it, haha. I'm sure it will be fine, and if it is a little OOC feeling, I'm sure you guys won't crucify me or anything....right?
> 
> Also, I will be skipping the Mount Etna subplot section, because honestly it is an awkward scene to fit in with how I want to write this singularity. Thankfully, nothing really important happens, so all's good and all. As mentioned earlier, Ritsuka is going to be the one who interacts with Nero more, so what do you think of his performance so far? Also, will anyone get the movie reference I hid in here? :)
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: First of all, do you think that, when the time comes, should I write Jacob and Mordred's first love-making scene as part of the story, or as a separate section for those interested in finding out how it goes down?
> 
> Second question: If Nero as a Servant faced off against Mordred in a death battle, who do you think would win and why?
> 
> As always, a sincere thank you to all my followers, and a big shoutout to Anjels_Lunares for adding this story to a recommended bookmark list. I am really touched by how much this story has been given by you, the readers. This has officially become the longest story I have ever written, and so it is wonderful and all, ya know? Thanks for reading and also sticking by the story so far, and I eagerly await y'alls feedback. Have a wonderful day, and see you in the next chapter!
> 
> Update(s): I have decided that when the time comes, the sex scene, if written, will be featured in a seperate one-shot


	32. Life and Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred confronts her Master, and also reflects on things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I am really nervous about how my first Mordred-centric chapter is going to be received. Hope you all enjoy it, and catch ya down below!

Mordred stared intently at the door, a hand hovering over the surface as she stood in thought. Damn, what she wouldn’t give to have Bedivere right now. Father’s first knight had a reputation for helping out the knights who had suffered form their first battle, as had Tristan, whenever he wasn’t making a sappy ballad or something. Ruler had wanted to talk to Jacob, or at least to go before her, but Mordred had refused to budge. Thankfully, Ruler had realized that, and Jeanne had agreed to letting Mordred handle this.

Now, she was starting to wonder if she should have tried to ask for any advice first. Now that she thinks about it, too, aside from anything combat related, the best people to approach for advice among the deployment members were Marie and Jeanne. Mordred shivered slightly at the idea of asking the exuberant Rider for help. But that wasn’t the point of why she was regretting going in without asking for advice.

There weren’t many people, alive or dead, who could describe Mordred, the Knight of Rebellion and the bastard child of Arthur Pendragon, as a ‘people person’.

Hell, she didn’t exactly hold high opinions about humanity. She recalled a conversation with Rider of Black, and that odd homunculus fellow, (Sieg, if she recalled). About how they’ll uphold grudges while forgetting debts of honor, and that the only thing that puts them above other animals was the ability to speak.

Mordred still stood by that, though she would (grudgingly) admit that only a handful of humans had managed to earn her respect and care. . For a time, her father. Then it was her former Master, Kairi Shishigou. To a certain degree, Mash and Ritsuka, and of course, her current Master. Her duty as a Servant was to, among other things, protect the one she was contracted to, and she would follow that duty to the letter, damn it!

“Hope this doesn’t become a repeating occurrence,” she grumbles, before finally plunging forward. She rapped the back of her hand against the door, and a familiar ‘come in’ was all that she needed to hear before she opened the door and marched into her Master’s temporary quarters, seeing that they were just as luxurious as her own, and definitely much more befitting of a knight than a crypt. Her green eyes quickly zeroed in on her Master, and she frowned, crossing her arms as she took in his appearance.

He looked a bit haggard, his rather shaggy brown hair ruffled up, no doubt from a nervous habit of running his hand through his hair, and this almost-always present hat was resting not on his scalp, but on the desk. His eyes, usually gleaming with determination and warmth, were dull, and if she was honest, a bit unnerving, considering how she couldn’t recall him looking like that before. He sat with his body slumped slightly.

“Alright, Master, ready to talk?” Mordred asked. She could imagine her former comrades-in-arms facepalming loudly, but when the hell has she ever do anything subtle?

Her Master looked at her with a weary smile that made him look three times as old as he was. “So, is this how it feels to be you in these situations?” He said in a half-hearted attempt at humor. Neither of them laughed. “Well, no time like the present, I suppose. Truth be told, I had expected for Jeanne to beat you to this.” His words caused her to snort in mild amusement.

“Well, you’re not wrong there. And don’t think that doesn’t mean you’re going to be avoiding this, buster,” Mordred growled with narrowed eyes. “We both know what’s been bothering you, so let’s skip the whole beating around the bushes.” Another bark of dry laughter.

“Straight to the point as always, I see,” Mordred’s Master said, a ghost of a smile breaking through his grim expression. “Yes. It’s about that soldier earlier. The one I had to…to kill,” he said, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to utter those last two words.

"What about it exactly that is bothering you?” Mordred said bluntly, unwilling to give her Master a chance to slink off into a bout of mental pity.

“Maybe because of how easy it is?” He asked aloud, though more for his own benefit. Mordred couldn’t disagree that, at least against normal foes, killing was disturbingly easy, at least in terms of doing so. Coping with it was another matter entirely, and not one she had much experience with, considering her mother’s so-called ‘training’ that she had been dragged through. “No, I think it is just the situation that I have found myself in,” her Master finally said. Mordred cocked her head slightly to look at him.

“What do you mean by that, Master?” She asked. He shrugged as shrugged, a bitter expression on his face.

“Now, in order to save humanity, we must kill humans. Such cruel irony,” her Master said sardonically. He pinched the bridge of his nose, resting the elbow on the corner of the desk as he shook his head. She was reminded of Agravain after receiving bad or poor news. “I was told that a human soul is priceless, and yet in this case there is a price that must be paid.”

“To win means you have to survive,” Mordred said, and to her at least, it was true. To win a battle, you had to survive. To win the Grail, you had to survive. And in order to survive, you had to do all that you can to survive. Or at least, almost anything. Even such a treacherous knight as herself had limits on what she was willing to do to win. “When it comes down to it, it was either you or him, Master.”

He spun around in his chair, a pair of what only moments ago had been dull-looking eyes now blazing with fire, the faintest traces of a snarl beginning to form as he glared at her.

“You think I don’t realize that it is necessary?” Her Master retorted with just a little bit of heat. She didn’t take offense to that, not in this case. Again, while she had never directly taken part in these kind of things back in Camelot, that didn’t mean that she hadn’t a clue as to how they would typically go down.

First, there would be a sense of sadness and/or regret. Check. Then there was occasionally a bout of denial or self-justification, though that seems to have been mostly glossed over in this case. By this point, Mordred could safely say, and with no small amount of pride, that her Master was in some ways a veteran soldier…for a mage.

Then came anger, a sentiment she was all to familiar with, both as a receiver and a giver. After being given her seat at the Round Table, she had sworn that no more would she be subjected to another’s anger, though in this case, she would make an exception. Especially if it meant that it would keep his head in the game. After all, there’s only so much even someone like her could do to protect a Master who allowed himself to be distracted on the field of battle.

Before she could say anything, however, her Master released a long sigh, his brown eyes closed. When he opens them again, they are closer to his normal calm. “I apologize for my outburst, Mordred,” he said, bowing his head slightly. Mordred nodded once. “Honestly, I feel a little silly, getting all worked up over this. I mean, you and I both know that this is far from the first time that I have killed something—”

“But like you said, this was the first time it was a living person. Not a wyvern, beast-man, or even a zombie, but someone with life in their veins,” Mordred interrupted. She could see where this path was going to go, and she wanted to cut it off here and now. She stared sternly into his eyes, trying to mimic one of the more lecturing looks of her eldest half-brother that also had a silent statement of ‘try and interrupt me, and see what happens’. God, how she hated every bloody time she had to be on the receiving end of one of those glares. What Agravain lacked in personality, he made up with his sternness.

“If you’re worried about this somehow leading to you becoming a bad person, then you’re being utterly dramatic. The fact that you’ve been hung over that man’s death is more than enough proof that you regret it. It’s fine to regret it, but don’t let it control you.”

Her Master remained silent after she finished speaking. “How did you deal with it? Killing someone for the first time?”

“Same way I do almost anything nowadays. I do whatever I want, when I want, and that’s that, But I’ll own up to my actions,” she said a bit flippantly. “Maybe you should sleep on those words, and make of them what you will,” she added, shrugging, her armor clinking slightly. Her Master nodded again, but said nothing, a thoughtful expression on his face.

After a minute or two had gone by in silence, Mordred grunted softly before speaking, seeing that her Master didn’t seem inclined to do that himself, as well as running out of ideas. At the very least, she seemed to have done _something_ , and not make things worse somehow.

“So, feeling a little better now, Master?” Mordred asked, crossing her arms. He didn’t respond to her question, instead staring at her. She arched an eyebrow at his hesitation, wondering what’s going on this time, when her Master finally broke the brief silence.

“Jacob.”

“Huh?” Mordred asked, staring at him in mild confusion.

“Jacob. Can you call me Jacob, and not just Master, please?” Her Master

“Tch. Ah, alright Mas—Jacob,” Mordred corrected herself as he gave her a dry look, which turned into a small grin as he nodded his head in approval.

“Thank you. For both that, and for listening. I know that out of the two of us, I might be considered as the one best suited for this, but in the end, it’s the effort that counts.” Jacob smiled at her, this time feeling more earnest than when she had entered the room.

“Well, try to make sure this doesn’t become a reoccurring theme. I’m a fighter, damn it, not a therapist,” she mocked-growled at him, while at the same time enjoying the rush of satisfaction at his acknowledgement. To her confusion, Jacob burst out laughing. “Okay, what the hell’s so funny?”

“No- _snrk_ -nothing much,” her Master managed to say amidst his laughter. “You just reminded me of an old show my mom and I watched when I was a kid,” he explained before falling back into his fit of laughter. Mordred rolled her eyes at the display.

“Well, I guess that answers my question about if you’re feeling better,” Mordred grunted, glad to be done with this. Finally reining in his mirth, Jacob nodded, looking far more like his normal self, whenever he wasn’t in his whole leader mood on missions, that is.

“Yeah, I think so. At the very least, it should be enough to allow my conscious to be at peace,” Jacob admitted, leaning back slightly. “You truly are a wonderful partner, Mordred,” he added softly, smiling brightly at her.

For some reason, she felt her heartbeat increase, if only for a moment, and an odd urge to blush, as an alien sensation wormed its way through her body. The hell? She bit back both the urge and the additional, instinctive desire to scowl, instead maintaining her smirk. “And don’t you forget that that fact,” Mordred said proudly, once again forgoing the idea of modesty. She had a feeling that some of the other Servants in their party might be making comparisons between Nero and herself, but at least _she_ kept _her_ boasting in check.

Still, it was hard to shake off the uncanny similarities, at least in regards to facial features, of the haughty Roman and that of Father. One of the reasons she kept Secret of Pedigree in place over her head whenever she could do so if she had to be in the same room as the talkative brat, too.

“We should probably go to bed soon,” Jacob said, his voice interrupting Mordred’s train of thought. Looking at the window, she could see that it was indeed rather late at night. While she had very little need to sleep, especially seeing as how she was still in top shape and all, the same couldn’t be said for either Jacob or Ritsuka.

“Yeah, probably a good idea. I’m not sure what it will be, but blondie definitely looked like she was cooking up a scheme or something after we finished dinner.” Probably an offensive expedition or something along the lines of that, seeing as how she now had new allies, in Mordred’s opinion. If that proved true, then who knows when either of the Masters would be able to get a full night’s rest.

“Good point. Thanks again, Mordred. Sleep well, and see you in the morning,” Jacob said, stretching his back before standing up, looking between her and the inviting bed that she stood next to.

“Good night, Jacob.”

* * *

Mordred had barely closed the door before she felt a familiar presence, and she stifled a sigh as she turned around to face Jeanne d’Arc. She didn’t even have the decency to look a little sheepish at having practically waited to badger her, damn it.

“Did it work?” Mordred sighed aloud this time, rolling her eyes at the concerned frown on Ruler’s face.

“Wow, such faithlessness for a saint,” Mordred snarked, earning her own frown as Ruler placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the unrepentant knight. “Relax, Ruler, Jacob’s doing fine.” Jeanne quirked an eyebrow at her fellow blonde.

“You called him Jacob,” Jeanne said softly, and Mordred scowled, having the sinking feeling that Ruler was about to say something as her frown was replaced with a mischievous-looking grin.

“What do you want now?” Mordred growls at the smiling blonde.

“Oh, nothing. Or at least, nothing new.” Gah, was she still trying to insist on there being something going on between Jacob and herself?!? Mordred could feel her scowl slowly morphing into a smirk as an earlier name she had remembered resurfaced.

“Oh? Is that so? Then, if that’s what you want to talk about, how about you go first? That homunculus kid, Sieg or something. I saw the way you looked at him,” Mordred leered as Jeanne’s face paled, her mouth hanging open slightly. Then the color rushes back into Ruler’s cheeks, and then some, the fifteenth Servant of the Greater Holy Grail War looking a bit like a ripe tomato as she began stammering protests of denial. Mordred’s smirk widened, feeling quite pleased with the results her words had achieved.

“Huh, I guess not. Well, it’s getting late, and I wanna enjoy that comfortable bed the annoying pipsqueak has lent out to each of us,” the Knight of Rebellion said with a lazy handwave, walking down the hallway as Jeanne continued to sputter out denials. As those started to fade away, Mordred’s smirk began to fade, replaced with the frown from earlier.

Just what the hell was Ruler playing at?

* * *

Finally reaching the room she had been given by that loudmouth pipsqueak of a ruler (the non-Servant kind), she shrugged off the frustrations caused by the brief confrontation with Ruler. If the slightly-taller (and bustier) blonde ever dragged her Rider friend in on this, they can waste their time talking to Clarent!

It wasn’t that she had an issue with the French Servant personally, mind you, but the past few days, she had been acting a little less like the strict, up-tight Ruler she had encountered in Trifas, and more like, well, a girl. Bah, at least she had yet to re-encounter that damn poison witch.

While she had mortally wounded Assassin of Red, Mordred still had a score that she intended to settle with the one who had briefly tortured her with poison, and more importantly, fatally injured her Master at the time. And she would do so, whether she also answered the Masters’ calls or not.

Dismissing her armor in the privacy of her ‘room’, Mordred threw herself onto the large, soft feathery bed with a soft, satisfied moan. Honestly, as much as she enjoyed her time with Kairi, Mordred loathed his typical choice of sleeping quarters. Not this time, though. No dusty skeletons, candle lighting, or a simple roll of fabric to lay upon whilst waiting for nightfall.

While she had been lucky last time, there was a reason she kept as far away as she could from necromancers.

Mordred stared up at the gilded ceiling. It was a bit too opulent for her tastes, having lived a life staying in rooms that ranged from being described as ‘spartan’ at best (such as how she kept her bedchamber back in Camelot) to basically a jail cell. Still, a good bed was a good bed. Event hat, however, was not enough to quell the stormy sea of thoughts running through her mind.

It felt good to have another Master who would truthfully acknowledge her actions and whatnot. It really was. Honestly, aside from serving King Arthur before it all came crashing down, and her wish for if she had won the Grail, the only other things in life that she desired most above all else was to have a ‘normal’ life, and to be acknowledged for her merits and achievements.

Those two men had done so, even knowing that she was considered by many to be the epitome of deceit and treachery. Instead, they had given her something she had lack, but never realized quite how much she had desired it until now: acceptance.

Kairi had, in so many ways, become much like a second father to her, though she would kill the first person to find out about that, even if it was the necromancer himself! He acted more like a parent than either Morgan _or_ Arthur, though she had realized that only at the bitter end. All she could hope for was that the scarred man had finally reunited with that daughter of his.

To be judged as an equal, despite her past actions? That was truly a gift. For that, both Kairi and now Jacob had earned her loyalty. A word that Gawain, Tristan, that womanizing snake known as Lancelot, and even the ever-polite Bedivere would have scowled at her using.

Had she not loyally served King Arthur, despite her mother’s desire to slay him? Had she not crushed those who had tried to betray the king without a moment’s hesitation? Had she not served without a desire for wealth or power in return for that very loyalty?

That had been loyalty, broken only by Father’s rejection. A single sentence, and years of service had proven to be a false as the man everyone in Camelot thought bore her armor.

Loyalty, at least as she had come to understand it, ran both ways, and she would never again maintain loyalty to someone, _anyone,_ who wouldn’t do the same for her.

A fallen knight she may be considered by some, but she was still a knight regardless. And, as a knight, she would fight to protect Jacob, not just because he was her Master, and therefore her actual source of existence-sustaining mana, but because he was her friend, her partner, who looked out for one another.

They were friends and partners, nothing more, nothing less, despite whatever damn insinuations she was being bombarded by from Ruler.

Still, even with that thought in mind, as the Saber closed her eyes and sleep finally claimed her, she couldn’t keep out of her mind the question of why she had felt her heart flutter, even if it was briefly, at Jacob’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! First chapter that doesn't have any of Jacob's perspective, and first chapter to be entirely from Mordred's POV. I feel like the part where she talks/attempts to comfort Jacob might have come out a bit awkward, though in hindsight, considering it's Mordred, I'm not sure there would be a perfect way for that to have happened lol! And what's this unfamiliar sensation she felt? Is her Saberface-sense tingling? So what did you guys think?
> 
> Also, if Jeanne is acting a bit OOC, I apologize, but I'm writing her with a sorta 'big sister' role, and so she might end up playing matchmaker for her Master or something haha.
> 
> Next chapter will pretty much cover the set-up for the expedition and at least a fair amount of the journey, so get ready in two or three chapters to meet our favorite English Rider and the Man of Muscles! :) Also, just finished watching Konosuba and halfway through Cells at Work, so I have plenty of happy energy to help me write again properly! :)
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: What's the worst (be it poorly-written, bad premise, ectera) anime that you have seen?
> 
> Second: If you could pick anyone from history who could be a Heroic Spirit that hasn't made an appeared in the Nauverse yet, who would you pick?
> 
> Once again, thanks for everything guys! Looking forward to reading y'alls feedback and chapter question answers. Hope you enjoyed, and see you all next time!


	33. To Gaul!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made for an expedition to Gaul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! Enjoy!

When I awoke, I felt refreshed. At ease. My dreams had been non-existent, just a comforting embrace of darkness. No visions of the past, no bloodied ghosts like in books or movies, nothing. I look out the window, yawning slightly as I blink a few times to chase away the last of my sleepiness.

The sun was shining through the window, though the rays weren’t really all that bright just yet, signaling it was probably around 8 or 9 in the morning. A decent-enough time to wake up, I suppose. Remembering the basin of water in the corner of the room, I walked over to it, taking off my undershirt so as to avoid drenching the black fabric.

I cup my hands slightly and bend forward, splashing cool water against my face, once, twice, thrice. I sigh softly in relief, feeling the last vestiges of drowsiness being driven away from my eyes. I paused for a few minutes, lightly gripping the bowl as water droplets run down my face onto my chest and back, before taking one last scoop of water in my hands and throwing it against my face.

“Ah, much better,” I mutter, pleased as I straighten up and use the nearby square of soft linen also provided to dry myself off.

There was a knock on my door. “Come in,” I said, curious to see who it was.

“Good morning, Mas—Jacob,” Mordred walked in as she quickly corrected herself before I could raise my eyebrow pointedly at her. Instead, I settle on a small smile. For the briefest moment, I could have sworn that her cheeks had flushed slightly, but when I blink, they are her typical pale color. I mentally shrug and pull the shirt back over my head. Must have imagined it, then.

“Good morning, Mordred,” I replied, leaning against the side of the stand holding the water basin. “Sleep well?” Mordred shrugged lazily.

“Yeah, the bed was nice. Apparently, they also have a personal bath with heated water,” Mordred added, sounding a bit more excited about that. Huh, interesting. I guess that is what the door to the side of the room I was given was for. It would also explain her slightly damp hair, too. Her lovely (there’s that word again!) emerald eyes glistened with contentment.

“Glad to see that you’re enjoying yourself this morning,” I chuckled softly, and Mordred raised a fine blonde eyebrow at my words. “Before you ask, yes, I also slept well. So, do you know where the others are?” I asked, quickly changing the topic.

“They’re in the main hall with the pipsqueak blondie, having breakfast. I wanted to see if you were up before getting some for myself,” Mordred said, rocking slightly on the back of her feet, a hungry gleam in her yes. I release a sound that is a mixture of a sigh and laughter.

“Well, then let’s get some food, then, shall we?”

“That’s the spirit!” Mordred said with a smirk as I put on and buttoned up the white dress shirt part of my uniform. I chuckled again.

“Just one thing, Mordred.”

“Yes, Jacob?”

“Try not to devour _everything_ in sight.”

“Ah, good morning Praetor!” Nero greeted us exuberantly from her chair at the head of the table as we entered the main area of her residence. For the second day in the row, Mordred and I were the last two members of our merry band to show up. True to the words of the Knight of Rebellion, there was food. Unlike the feast, which for all that Nero had claimed it being somewhat lackluster under the circumstance but I personally found to still be extravagant, the food was rather simple: a variety of everyday staple food like bread, cheese, olives, and other similar food that required very little preparation. As we sat down in the same seats Mordred and I had used the previous evening, the Emperor of Roses stared at me expectantly. “Did you find your accommodations to your liking?” She asked. I nodded, bowing my head slightly.

“Yes, it was most comfortable. Thank you again for your generosity, _Imperator,_ “ I said in a humble tone, making sure to use the ancient Latin title. It was a good call, it seems, for Nero’s already blinding smile somehow managed to intensify.

“Umu! Yes, it is to be as expected,” she replied, closing her eyes and therefore missing Mordred rolling her own

Once breakfast had been finished, and Nero had dismissed the handful of servants as they took away the plates and leftovers, a more serious atmosphere filled the room. “Now, then, to business,” Nero proclaimed, waiting only for a moment for her ‘Viceroy’ and ‘Praetor’ to reply. “I know you all have only just arrived, but I am thinking of launching an expedition into Gaul. The purpose for it will be two-fold: To aid and to give encouragement to my faithful subordinates that I have left in charge of the defenses in that region. Obviously, I will be leading it, otherwise what point is there in doing so,” Nero explained, before looking at Mash and Ritsuka with a shrewd look.

“Will you join me on this trip, though?” She asked, the question for both Ritsuka, Mash, and I, but mainly directed at the first two.

As I had observed earlier, it seems that Rits has made an impression on her, and so seems to focus more on him. The Japanese magus looks over at me, for the briefest moments a look of hesitation on his face as Mash nodded slowly to him. I do the same, and Ritsuka relaxes, looking back at Nero with confidence.

“It will be an honor,” my fellow Master responded with a smile. Nero nods in a mixture of pleasure and approval, clasping her hands together.

“Excellent! Your words are most pleasing! It is decided, then!” She exclaimed in a Marie-like manner, before clapping her hands once, loud and firmly. The action hadn’t even been finished before the main door opened, and one of her guards, the captain of them, in fact, entered, ready to hear and carry out his leader’s commands. “An imperial expedition to Gaul! Prepare at once. We leave at noon!” Nero instructed. Her subordinate saluted her.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” He responded dutifully. “They will be waiting for you at the main gate. Glory to Rome!” He added, before bowing his head slightly at Ritsuka and I. A sign of acknowledgement for the ranks our new erstwhile boss had bestowed upon us.

“Now, then, we have several hours still left before noon, so please, make yourselves at home, and ready yourselves for a long march,” Nero said with a more toned-down smile, standing up and heading off towards her room, leaving only Ritsuka, Mash, myself, and our Servants.

“I must admit, I am quite curious to see what Fran—Gaul, will look like,” Marie spoke up, her pale blue eyes shining excitedly as she clasped her hands, shaking slightly in excitement. Jeanne shook her head slightly, a bemused expression on her face as she lightly gripped the Rider’s shoulder.

“Patience, Marie,” the Ruler chided gently. “Remember, we won’t be seeing much of the land. Still, I do agree that it will be quite interesting. A pity that we don’t have more time to spend here, otherwise I would like to see what Domrémy looks like in this century,” she admitted ruefully. Gilles gave a single nod, keeping quiet, a contemplative look on his face while next to him, Medea and Sasaki began bickering…again.

I swear, part of me wonders if there is some sort of chemistry going on between the female Caster and the sole Assassin of Chaldea.

Next to me, Ritsuka coughed into his fist quietly and politely, presumably to get my attention. I looked at him, cocking my head slightly to the side as I stared questioningly at my younger friend. “Something the matter, Rits?” I asked quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the others. Especially not while there is such a lovely and comforting mood going on. Those were truly moments that in the past few weeks I have come to realize are truly worth both saving and savoring.

“Not exactly,” my fellow Master admitted with a troubled expression. I don’t call him out on that however, and merely wait as he continues speaking. “Are you okay? You looked completely out of it last night.” I nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I was dealing with…with killing that soldier,” I mutter backed softly. “It didn’t feel right. Still doesn’t feel right,” I added quickly, seeing his eyes widen just a fraction. “But it won’t affect me, not anymore. Mordred helped out with that,” I finished, smiling slightly. Ritsuka returned one filled with relief.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to having to witness that stuff myself. I talked with Mash and Doctor Roman last night myself, though.” I grunted in approval.

“Good. And we have each other,” I said, holding out my fist. Ritsuka’s grin widened at the gesture, and he bumped his own against mine. “Now, come on, let’s get ready. Looks like we’re technically going back to France again.”

* * *

True to her words, the unit Nero had ordered to be made ready was assembled by noon, as ready for departure as we from Chaldea were. It was a full legion, and if I was reading the identification markings their broad shields bore, it was the Legio I Italica. In the center of each shield was the rendition of a snarling boar, the legion’s emblem, no doubt. When we had asked Roman, the doctor that is, he filled us in with a brief history of the unit.

The name translated into English as the ‘First Italian Legion’. In the proper timeline, it had been founded by Nero on September 22, 66 AD. It had been raised for a campaign in Armenia as a response to the Roman-Parthian War of 58-63. However, the First Jewish-Roman War had broken out that year, and the exemption was canceled, the legion being re-deployed to crush the revolt. It’s members, at least at the beginning, had been all Italics, (the good doctor briefly pausing to explain how the various peoples who lived on the Italian Peninsula being called this) and each soldier was a giant of a man, six feet or more. That height was considered to be even more extraordinary during this period of time, and harder to find in the Mediterranean. Personally, I found it a bit humorous to see the armored men who stood a good foot taller than Mordred. The fact that this legion had been raised six years before they should have been could be chocked up to the whole singularity existence and the civil war which we were now involved in.

Not sure how much of that would prove useful for us in terms of correcting the timeline, but it was certainly interesting to learn some new stuff from Doctor Roman nevertheless. It also allowed for Ritsuka and I to tune out the little speech Nero had started to give, seated on the back of a pitch-black mare. While she was speaking, however, I took a minute or two to observe the Emperor of Roses and her accompanying bodyguard unit.

Spread out to either side and behind her were fifty armored men with imperial purple cloaks and transversal horsehair crests dyed a similar shade. The coloring denoted members of the elite Praetorian Guard, soldiers who served as the personal guards of the Roman Emperors…as well as their murderers for a number. However, it looked like they were loyal to the person they had sworn their oaths too.

Perhaps also the fact that the emperor they had murdered, Caligula, was alive once again was helping cement their infamous loyalty this time. While I can’t, _won’t,_ speak for Caligula, if I was murdered by people who had sworn to protect me, I would be _pissed_ , to say the very least!

Finally, Nero had conculuded her speech, to a thunderous roar of approval, before declaring to move out, a long column of men and metal, with a will of iron.

Roughly two hours later saw our expedition making excellent progress towards the border between Gaul and the imperial heartlands, where the main base of operations for our side was located. The soldiers seemed to be in good spirits, a testament to Nero’s oration skills and her impressive level of popularity with her subjects. Marching cadences amongst the various cohorts could be heard, even those all the way at the opposite end of the column.

In the front, Ritsuka and I, along with Mash, Mordred, and the other Servants. accompanied Nero and her personal bodyguard of fifty Praetorian Guardsmen. The men rode in silence, looking alert at all times, be it on the occasional pause, to allow for Nero’s scouts to check for any ambushes or traps up ahead, or on the move.

Once again, Nero looked at Ritsuka and I in concern. “Ritsuka, are you sure about staying on foot?” She asked my fellow Master, the white cloth of his uniform beginning to be stained a light brown at the edges due to the dust. “Or you, Jacob?” She added. Ritsuka nodded while I simply shrugged, relatively unbothered by going on foot. Considering all the running we had to do in France only a week or so ago, a relatively consistent marching pace felt like a cakewalk for us. However, the Roman’s words of concern caused Mash to over her shoulder.

“Senpai, are you sure that you’re alright? You and Jacob Senpai have been walking virtually non-stop since we left the city. Are you not tired?” She asked, causing both of us to smile slightly.

“This is nothing,” I said, pulling a rather Mordred-esque smirk. Ritsuka nodded again before looking at the Shielder walking alongside him.

“What about you, Mash? Are you alright?” He asked his first Servant. Mash nodded, a firm expression on her face.

“I’m fine. As a Demi-Servant, I have incredible stamina,” she informed her senpai. I had asked Ritsuka to explain the term to me, and he had gladly given me a crash course on the whole ‘senpai’ and ‘kouhai ‘ concepts. At least I now understood what she meant whenever she referred to us with that word.

At that moment, Ritsuka’s commlink lets out a soft chime, and my fellow Master opened his connection to Chaldea’s Command Room. _“You should’ve just gotten on that horse. Were you traumatized when you almost felled off of it?”_ Our other erstwhile boss asked, his amusement plain. I cough into my fist, disguising the soft bark of laughter that had escaped past my lips.

When our party had been offered our own mounts from the imperial stables, as opposed to having us march like the soldiers, Ritsuka had the misfortune of almost being thrown off of a particularly ill-tempered mare. While in his defense, the horse he would have given had to have been one of the meanest-looking creatures I had even seen, it didn’t make for any less of an amusing scene. Fortunately, he had been unscathed, and we had opted to walk on foot alongside him.

Unfortunately, however, that did nothing to prevent the teasing and ribbing some of the Servants had given him, though none of it had been mean, thankfully.

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Ritsuka protested, crossing his arms with a scowl.

“Doctor,” Mash said in a firm, warning manner, and Doctor Roman fell silent. I could imagine the sheepish expression on the ginger man’s face as Mash continued speaking. “Try not to tease Senpai too much, please.” While it was phrased like a question, it was clearly a warning. She also was a bit cross still with the man over him eating her special stock of candy when we had first met Jeanne in the previous singularity. Roman laughed sheepishly before replying.

 _“Sorry, Ritsuka, but it’s no fun just providing intel support,”_ Roman whined softly, and I shook my head slightly. This is a serious matter. Usually, fun doesn’t tend to go well with that concept. Before I could _“—Hold up! I’m detecting life up ahead,”_ Roman said, his voice completely devoid of his earlier mirth and embarrassment. Nero, having heard his words, raised her right hand while reigning in her horse with the other, bring the column to a halt as Ritsuka and I waited nervously for Roman to give us more information. “ _Ok, it looks like there’s no Servants, but I think it’s enemies. Maybe around a hundred or so. They’re starting to circle around.”_

With no sounds other than his words, we could hear the faint sound of metal and cloth rustling about up ahead. Narrowing my eyes as I concentrated, I could see the faintest reflection of sunlight off of a metal helmet. Soldiers of the United Empires, no doubt.

“Hmmm,” Nero said, lowering her right hand so that she could stroke her chin, her green eyes gleaming. “The invisible mage is quite convenient. Faster than my scouts,” she mused, before speaking a bit louder, though thankfully not shouting. “If you may, please consider becoming my new Court Mage.” Jeeze, is she trying to recruit all of Chaldea now or what? I could hear the loud gulp Roman made.

 _“Royal service…a promotion?”_ He sounded contemplative of the admittedly generous offer. A bit too contemplative, in fact.

“…Doctor,” Mash said sternly, and Roman gave off yet another bark of sheepish laughter. Now I could imagine the internet idol-obsessing man rubbing the back of his head.

 _“No, no, I was just kidding,”_ he said, though to my ears it sounded rather weak. _“How could I ever accept royal service? Anyways, here they come! Rapidly closing in from the left and right! Prepare for immediate combat!”_ Doctor Roman called out firmly, just as shouts and jeers began to fill the forest.

“Men, form ranks! Ready javelins!” Nero called out, drawing forth her sword, a manner I also copied even as Mash and Jeanne positioned themselves defensively around Ritsuka and I. The two, as well as Mordred, had quickly developed the reputation back in Chaldea of being the main line of defense for Rits and I whenever we were under attack. I raised my voice, addressing the Mordred and the other Servants.

“Take up positions on the right. Let’s let these guys handle the left side,” I instructed them, and only Mordred seemed to be truly excited for combat, though Chulainn did smile just a tad bit too savagely for my liking. Then again, she was the closest one Rits and I have summoned to being a Berserker-class Servant, with Gilles a distant second considering his (weak) Madness trait he had informed us about.

“Umu, we’ll get rid of them swiftly!” Nero called out as her men diligently took up defensive formations, their broad shields raised, and lead-shanked heavy javelins held in an overhead pose, awaiting the word so that the deadly projectiles could begin raining down. “Behold the might of Rome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! This is mostly a transitional chapter to cover most of the trip between Rome and Gaul. However, one of my biggest complaints about the game is the fact that you're able to travel across *continents* faster than Varys getting from Westros to Essos (Sorry, Game of Thrones Season 5 joke). As much as it bothers me, at least in this case, I will follow the idea that it takes almost the entire day for them, being late evening when they arrive at Gaul. But what did you guys think? Also, I was watching Cells at Work, and one of the main characters, Red Blood Cell, looks like Gudako to me. Look her up and tell me if you disagree, please, because I might use some of her personalities if and when I get to introduce Gudako properly into the story :)
> 
> Also, the legion I used in this chapter was an actual legion founded by the historical Nero, so sorry for the whole geeking out paragraph. I am about to get my degree in history, so I love writing this stuff haha.
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: What's your favorite kind of weather, and what's your least favorite?  
> Second: If you could pick the destination of your choice for a week-long vacation, where would you go?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and looking forward to reading your comments and thoughts! I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks for all the support you guys and gals have given me! Stay healthy and safe, and see you in three to four days! :)


	34. On to Gaul!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The march to Gaul continues, and our intrepid heroes meet two unique people shortly upon arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to think that three days or so between chapters is a more reasonable update schedule, at least for now. Good to finally find an update rhythm, it seems! :) Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and see you in the end notes! :)

“Looks like that is the last of them!”

The initial skirmish was short and rather one-sided. Though the enemy ambushers appeared to have been veteran soldiers, they were outnumbered and without the element of surprise thanks to the doctor’s timely warning. In the first volleys of javelins, about half of the oncoming soldiers were killed or wounded, and the survivors had appeared to have been badly demoralized by this. Instead of pressing forward, they had skidded to a halt before turning around, dragging their moaning wounded back into the forests.

On our side, a combination of attacks from Chiron, Amadeus, and Medea had a similar, though far more visually riveting, effect, and possibly even more deadly than those of our Roman allies from what I could tell

However, before we could relax, Doctor Roman had reported that an even larger group approaching from both sides. They must have been reinforcements that had been delayed. Fortunately, at least for us, there was still no signs of any Servants besides the ones accompanying us.

Still, the battle wasn’t hard, at least for us. None of the soldiers broke through as Ritsuka and I shouted out orders, hardening our hearts to the fact that we were killing fellow humans. We could feel bad latter if we must, but like Mordred said to me last night, it was them or us.

If Ritsuka and I fell, then all of humanity, past, present, and future, would be doomed to die anyways.

The whole event must have taken no more than perhaps fifteen to twenty minutes. Our Servants hadn’t even been scratched, proof of the wide gap in skills and capabilities between the mortal soldiers and the various Heroic Spirits that I was proud to call my comrades.

The soldiers loyal still to Nero gave out almost in unison as they resumed their marching positions. However, the order to resume the march hadn’t been issued yet, their leader focused on something else at that moment.

Nero had turned to Ritsuka and I, still looking quite pleased. “You handled those veterans like they were nobodies,” she said, a tone of awe underlining her words. “And with such small numbers, too, no less. Was that thanks to the skills of Mash and the others?” She asked, humming for a second as a more inquisitive expression appeared. “Or was it the leadership Jacob and Ritsuka provided? Either way, you’re all far more intriguing than I though when we first met,” Nero admitted, before suddenly smiling rather mischievously at Ritsuka.

“Listen…Rather than a guest commander, want to serve me?” Ritsuka blinked, startled, while I sighed silently as Nero continued her little sales pitch. “You’ll get to savor all the glory of this world by my side. I mean, after we’ve defeated the United Empire, of course.” I idly looked at Mash, whose violet gaze was flickering rapidly between her Master and the Emperor of Roses. She bit her lip, looking a bit adorable despite her troubled and anxious expression.

“Well?” Nero asked in a tone both indulgent and expectantly, hands on her hips even as she sat in the saddle of her horse. “Not a bad deal, don’t you agree?”

“True…” Ritsuka said hesitantly, unsure of how to decline the job offer _without_ offending our hostess. At least, I hope that was the reason behind his hesitation. Bad enough that she almost managed to hire Doctor Roman! Nero chuckled.

“Isn’t that right? Isn’t that right?” She prodded with a massive, bright smile. “You’re an honest soul. Umu, I think I really like you now!” Nero said proudly. I fight down the urge to smirk, as well as to ask if Ritsuka was about to be kissed again. What’s this, like, the third time now? Mash coughed politely, looking a bit more distressed now.

“Senpai, we have a mission,” she reminded quietly. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?” The Demi-Servant asked. Ritsuka didn’t reply, now being the one to laugh sheepishly, unable to meet her gaze. Mash sighed, half despairingly, half exasperated. “…You haven’t forgotten, have you?” She asked again. Ritsuka finally looked back at her with a rueful smile. As he was about to respond at last, however, the local chatterbox continued speaking.

“Once we have defeated the United Empire, I can even grant you Britannia, let alone Gaul.” Mordred bristled at the idea of her homeland being used as a battering inventive, while Marie looked troubled for the same reason. Of course, the well-dressed blonde either ignored or didn’t notice the unintended reactions her offer had just elicited as she continued her verbal assault. “You know of my generosity, but grand offers like this have been rare,” she added, before pointing at a common solder behind us. “Isn’t that right, soldier? Do I not excel in splendor among past emperors?” Aaaannnnnd there’s the ego showing itself once again.

The legionnary nodded resolutely, standing at attention. “Yes, as you say. Today the brilliance that is Rome shines all the brighter, all thanks to you!” Nero chuckled in pleasure, looking away from the man.

“Umu, an honest fellow. Yes, yes, I believe that even I may shine a bit too brightly,” Nero bragged, eyes closed and her free hand held out in a dramatic posture of some sort. Mash looked uncomfortable, perhaps by the attention the blonde has been giving Ritsuka, perhaps?

 _“Oh? Mash’s looking a little—”_ Doctor Roman began to say in a bemused tone before Mash interrupted him.

“What is it, Doctor?” She asked in an even tone.

 _“Oh, no it’s nothing,”_ the ginger said evasively. _“Absolutely nothing. Speaking of there being nothing, it looks like that was it. The path’s safe to advance on once again,”_ Roman informed us. Nero nodded yet again. She really was fond of using that gesture, it seems.

“I must say it again, invisible mage, you are most useful. Resume the advance!” She shouted over her shoulder, urging her mount forward as our march began once again.

Now that the locative ruler’s attention was no longer focused on us, Mash spoke softly to Ritsuka.

“Good work, Senpai,” she said, her earlier irritation at him evidently gone.

“Good work to you too, Mash.” His words made her blush briefly.

“R-Right,” she stammered. “Thank you very much, but I’m more worried about our allies.”

 _“Don’t worry, you’re almost there. Just about fifty miles or so,”_ Doctor Roman chimed in, and Nero jumped back in, having heard his words.

“Thrice now I must say this: You are truly convenient! I must have one now in every country. Worry not, though, Mash. We’ve just entered the territory of Gaul, and as your teacher just said, the camp my forces had established isn’t that far away. Once we get there, we can all get a good long rest.”

“Can we get a rest from her constant talking?” Mordred hissed under her breath, just loud enough so that I could hear. I look at the Servant standing beside me from the corner of my eye.

“Don’t fret, we’re almost there. Besides, at least she isn’t focused on you or I, like she is with Ritsuka,” I said wryly, a dry chuckle my reward from the Knight of Rebellion.

* * *

It was early evening when we finally arrived. I was extremely grateful that my boots had been broken in long ago, otherwise the blisters that would be developing by now would have been extremely uncomfortable! Unfortunately, my feet are tired, however. As is a number of the others in our group.

“Man, I haven’t been on a march like this since I was training with Scáthach!” Chulainn exclaimed, his spear dismissed as he sat down on a rock, messaging one foot slightly. I cocked my head slightly.

“Scáthach?” I asked, unfamiliar with the name. The blue-haired Lancer looked up at me with a nod.

“Yeah. She was Queen of the Lands of Shadow, and my mentor. Everything I have, I owe to her, including Gàe Bolg,” he explained briefly. I could tell by the troubled expression on his face that there is more to it, but that he wished to not speak of it. Accepting his desires, I gave my thanks before walking over to another flat-topped rock to sit down.

“Eh, we’re here now, so quite your whining, Lancer,” Mordred scoffed. Nero, however, ignored us, nor did she dismount. Instead, she urged her horse onwards, and the faithful stead trotted over to the center of the camp. The red-clothed blonde took a deep breath, straightening her posture and looking even more regal and commanding, before speaking loudly.

“I am Emperor Nero Claudius! I shall allow you to listen carefully!” Nero declared commandingly, and both the men who had been chosen to accompany us, as well as the soldiers already in the camp, paused and looked at her, each and every one of the legionaries stood at attention, eyes riveted to the form of their commander-in-chief. “Soldiers of the Gaul defenses, I thank you for your efforts for me, my subjects, and my Rome! I have now led an expedition of my own here to aid your efforts. “You now have a mighty general here with you!”

Nero paused, and her light green eyes swept around the camp, looking confidant and mighty, especially astride her horse, giving her an increase in stature. While I couldn’t see all of the expressions for the thousands of soldiers all around us, the ones I could see were consistently ones of either awe or adulation. “There’s no reason for us to lose this battle! Victory belongs to me, and to the Rome you all love!” Her soldiers, both veterans and rookies, released a loud roar of approval before chanting her name. Nero held her arms out to her adoring audience, smiling as she basked in their praises.

“Listen to the crowd,” Mash said, trying to be heard over the ruckus. She stared in awe at the charismatic Roman. “So, this is how charismatic Emperor Nero was at her peak?” She asked, speaking into her commlink.

 _“Probably, but it’s also a mystery,”_ Doctor Roman replied. _“She’s so charismatic now, but in her later years…”_ He paused, and hesitated. Perhaps the good doctor was wondering if he should mention the final years of Nero’s reign, and the descent into cruelty that forever tarnished her name. “ _No, never mind. I will stop there. Never tell people living in the past about the future. Especially if it is about_ their _futures. That’s our policy.”_

“A wise one, too,” I said approvingly. In the meantime, the crowd began to disperse, Nero’s fresh troops beginning to set up their own tents to rest while the original garrison carried on doing whatever it was they had been doing. Nero dismissed her guards, instructing them to set up tents for not only herself, but our party as well. Well, at least her extravagant claims of her generosity are not empty ones, as annoyingly boastful as I can find her to be. Honestly, I’m impressed that Mordred hasn’t tried to deck Nero yet!

“Thank you for your generosity,” I said, bowing my head slightly. As expected, the emperor merely preened at my words, looking quite pleased.

“Yes, yes, no need to thank me. After all, there’s something more important that I need to hear,” she said, frowning slightly as she swept her gaze once more around the camp, apparently unable to find whatever or whomever she was looking for.

“Where are my generals?” Nero asked a centurion, as the latter saluted his emperor.

“Your Majesty! Generals Boudica and Spartacus went for a brief scouting mission a few hours ago. They are due back at any moment,” he reported, standing stiffly. Nero nodded slightly.

“Very good, then. As you were, Centurion,” she said. The officer saluted her again before leaving to go about his daily tasks. I blinked, my mouth open slightly in shock at what I had just heard.

Boudica? _Spartacus?_

I recognized those names, but don’t believe what I had just heard. Surely, those names are coincidences?

But what if they’re not? If the owners are who I think they might be, they should both be dead historically by now. On top of that, both of them were considered even now as some of Rome’s most famous adversaries, along with Attila the Hun, of the steppes, and Hannibal Hamilcar, of Carthage.

Next to me, Fou quivered slightly, releasing a low keening sound. At the same time, we felt the ground beneath our feet shaking slightly. It was subtle at first, but was growing stronger. It wasn’t violent enough to be an earthquake, plus I have absolute faith that Chaldean Command would have warned us by now if it was an earthquake.

Then there was also the fact that the only ones at unease over this was our group, with Nero and her fellow Romans acting like this was nothing strange. By now, it was drawing closer, and I could hear what sounded like heavy footsteps synchronized with each vibration.

 _“These readings I am getting…and Fou’s reaction….”_ Doctor Roman began to say before to figures appeared.

“Well, Emperor Nero Claudius came earlier than I thought,” said one of the two, a very well-endowed, and full figured, red-headed woman, perhaps in her early thirties, wearing a skirt and a white corset trimmed with gold. In one hand she had a targe shield, the wood covered in well-worn brown leather, and a gold gilded boss in the center. Sheathed at her side was a longsword, with a gold cross guard and hilt. Set into the pommel, and in the center of the cross guard, were red stones. Rubies, perhaps? Her hair was cut extremely short, and tied up in the back into a mini-ponytail. Her dark blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and intelligence.

“You there,” she suddenly said, pointing at Ritsuka and I. “The boy who looks like a rookie, and the swordsman. Are you two the guest commanders I’ve heard so much about this morning?” Her gaze swept up and down, looking thoughtful. Apparently, Nero had sent word of our promotions almost immediately, it seems. Finally, the woman shrugged, a friendly smile on her lips. “I guess looks can be deceiving. I am Boudica, in charge of the defense of Gaul.”

“Boudica…?” Mash whispered the name, but Boudica nodded, her smile looking slightly strained now.

“Yes, I am the ‘former’ queen of both Britannia and the Iceni tribe. The huge fellow next to me is…” the woman who was supposed to be dead but was looking rather alive gestured to her companion. I blinked in awe at the massive figure.

He had a muscular figure, almost ridiculously so, and was the closest thing to a giant I have had yet encounter! He had blonde hair, and a sense of madness that was sorta thrown off by his armor. To my shame, the first thing that popped into my head about the mass of metal protecting most of his head and chest was that it made him look like a BDSM specialist. He didn’t speak so much as roar.

“Another champion who was invited to the battlefield! You should be pleased, this garden of battle is full of oppressors. The oppressors are committing atrocities as they approach. It’s time to rise up! Let us battle, side by side! You, who dare defy this unparalleled tyranny!”

“Huh?” Mash asked, taken aback just as much as I was by the speech he had just pulled off. I looked over my shoulder to see the reactions of the other Servants. Aside from three, the others were watching the warrior (for he surely wasn’t a farmer or shepherd!) warily.

Chiron and Jeanne eyed him warily as well, though there was a sense of recognition mixed into their body language as well. Retracting her helmet, meanwhile, Mordred grinned ferally at the figure. “So, we finally get to meet in person, Berserker of Red,” the Knight of Rebellion said, sizing up the man. Ah, yet another old….acquaintance of the Saber’s, then. Small world, I suppose. Honestly, the size difference between Spartacus (because who else could it be?) and my first Servant was quite ridiculous.

“…Right,” Mash drawled warily. “His words baffle me, but I have a feeling…” Mash trailed off as Boudica stared wide-eyed at us, then her companion, then us again.

“H-Huh? Whoa!” She finally said as she laughed, the sound having a musical chime to it. “That’s extremely rare. Spartacus hardly ever takes a liking to someone at first sight,” she explained, eyes closed as she shook with mirth before opening them. “Actually, allow me to correct myself. He hardly ever takes a liking to someone at first sight, _without_ then pouncing on them.

“Doctor…this man right here…”

 _“Y-Yes, he’s definitely a muscle,”_ Doctor Roman responded to the Demi-Servant, sounding dumbstruck. I raised an eyebrow at that last word. _“Servant! I mean a Servant. That’s what the readings say. Definitely a Servant. They both are. This proves that even in this era, stray Servants do exist. Let’s leave it at that,”_ Doctor Roman added both rapidly and awkwardly, before falling silent for a moment. When he starts talking again, he sounds more composed. _“More importantly, he doesn’t seem to have hostile intentions.”_

“Warriors of the Rebellion, give me your names!” Spartacus suddenly roared, the Berserker having grown impatient in waiting for replies to come from us without further prodding. Boudica, meanwhile, sighed in mock-despair. Apparently, this was a common routine. “Let us revolt together against the inhumane empire, and shout in triumph under a free sky!” I bowed my head slightly.

“Greetings to you, Spartacus, and you, Boudica. I am Jacob Aronson. These are my Servants who have answered my call: Jeanne d’Arc, Wolfgang Amadeus, Sasaki Kojirou, and Mordred Pendragon,” I said, introducing both myself and my Servants, who gave off greetings of their own.

“Did he just ask for our names just now?” Mash asked, staring at me in disbelief. “Is that what is was?” Ritsuka chuckled, rubbing a hand against the her top of her head, ruffling up her hair slightly. The Demi-Servant squeaked in surprise at the affectionate gesture, and I raised an eyebrow, though I felt that, at least in this case, it was nothing more than a friendly gesture of affection.

“It seems so. I am Ritsuka Fujimaru. This is Mash Kyrielight. Behind me are Cu Chulainn, Medea of Colchis, Gilles de Rais, and Chiron. It is an honor to meet you both,” my fellow Master said, bowing deeply.

“So, I assume that the man who had been speaking earlier is the famous Invisible Mage Emperor Nero sent word of?” Boudica asked with a raised eyebrow.

“ _Oh, of course, let me introduce myself. I am Doctor Romani Archaman.”_

“So, these are your honored guests, then, Your Majesty?” Boudica asked, looking at the surprisingly-silent blonde with a serious expression. Though it wasn’t all that obvious, I had a feeling that Boudica was…displeased at the very least to be serving under the Roman responsible, directly or indirectly, for the injuries inflicted upon the Briton and her two daughters. SO, why fight for Rome? It was a question I yearned to ask, but forced myself to not air it. Instead, I opt to gaze towards Nero.

Nero was staring off into the distance, a troubled expression on her features. She looked rather out of it, which was explaining the silence she had been in. Honestly, as much as I would have thought something like that would have been a pleasant change of pace, it felt…wrong.

Unsettling.

“Your Majesty?” Boudica repeated, her brow furrowed in concern. Nero blinked suddenly, shaking her head slightly as her cheeks flushed.

“D-Did you say something? It seems I am a little tired. More than I expected, too. Boudica, please take care of our guests,” Nero instructed her apparent subordinate in a subdued tone. I narrowed my eyes slightly as the Emperor of Roses continued speaking. “Tell them about the situation here in Gaul. I have a terrible headache.” Boudica bowed her head ever so slightly, a soft, sincere smile now present once more.

“Understood. Leave these youngsters to me.”

“Very good then. I’m going to retire for the day. Viceroy, Praetor, I will see you both in the morning.” With that, Nero turned and walked away, still lacking her previous levels of energy that had been both amusing and annoying to experience, truth be told. We all watched in silence as the blonde disappeared into a newly-pitched tent that her escort had been working on, before Boudica turns around, clapping her hands after dismissing her shield. Her small smile had morphed into a wide, toothy grin.

“Now, then. Let’s get you kids some good food in ya!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for our heroes to discover why they call that Rider Momma Boudica, lol! What did you guys think? Sorry for glossing over the fight scene, but if I write every little fight scene that doesn't involve Servants, I'll end up with more fighting and less plot, lol! Plus, Jacob shouldn't have to always be fighting, otherwise, why would he feel the need to go with the idea of summoning more Servants? Still, how did you guys enjoy our group meeting Spartacus and Boudica? Planning on next scene to be rather pleasant, considering how we know Boudica is to the player and Mash in the game :)
> 
> Now, I've posted earlier parts of this story on FanFiction.net, and I have encountered some criticism. First of all, do you guys think I am making Mordred too OOC? I mean, yes, that's bound to happen since this is a fanfic, and no matter how hard I try I will never be as good as the writers who created Mordred, though I will always do my best to stay true to her character and all, obviously.
> 
> Another criticism, and in hindsight, is not exactly wrong or unjustified, is the whole magecraft aspect of Jacob's character. I didn't have as good a grasp, and in some ways, still don't, on how magecraft works for individuals 100%, and also, this is the first time I've tried to use magic as a tool of any level in a main character. Furthermore, there is a plot reason why: Jacob's family has lost their Magic Crest a couple hundred years ago, and was another reason why they moved to America, because they had heard tales of the ones responsible fleeing their. Unfortunately, they never find it, and so hence why the magecraft is weakened and all. However, seeing as how Jacob has a large amount of Magic Circuits, and will be working against some of the most powerful and skilled Magus of all time (Medea and the other Casters), he will learn to better use his ice elemental skill. At least, that is what I was going to go with. However, I want to hear from you: does this seem reasonable, or have I just completely messed up with Jacob being able to use Magecraft?
> 
> Please don't take this as me lashing out, or even really ranting. I just wanted to talk about this because, as a writer, I'm willing to admit that I have made some mistakes, and want to hear feedback and all. I sincerely enjoy hearing this stuff, even if it is not positive feedback, because I want to expand and improve my skill. So please, keep leaving feedback. It sounds silly, and perhaps I am overemphasizing it, but it is sincerly useful.
> 
> Shoutouts to Zlatz, Malko, NathanHale2, and the wookie1 for your recent feedback. You guys rock, and please, don't stop. You guys rock! :)
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Do you agree or disagree about how Jacob viewed Spartacus's armor? Second: What's your favorite music genre?
> 
> Thank you guys for reading another chapter, and especially everyone who has been following and reading this story for the past few months. I hope you enjoyed it, and I am looking forward to reading your comments, feedback, and suggestions! Have a lovely day, and see you in three or four days!


	35. A Test of Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company meet Boudica and Spartacus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! No tricks, so here's my treat for y'all! Enjoy!

While Spartacus had quickly wondered off, Boudica had led us to a firepit, with rocks and logs forming a rather large circle around it, providing just enough room for all of us to have a seat. After being prompted by the red-head, Mash began telling the general about Chaldea, Lev’s betrayal, our mission to save humanity, and Orléans. The woman listened quietly, only interrupting briefly whenever she sought an explanation about certain matters. Part of me wondered where the food she had mentioned earlier was, but I held my tongue.

“—So that’s the story,” Mash said, finally finishing retelling our adventures. “I think we’ll be in your care for a while.”

“Oh?” Boudica said thoughtfully, leaning back as one hand absently strokes her chin. An old habit in life, perhaps? “From a foreign world, you say? I see. I guess such things can really happen. After all, Spartacus and I are both here, when we shouldn’t be,” Boudica finally said with a shrug, accepting the tale with little incredulity. Doctor Roman, who had been listening in, finally chimes in.

 _“Thank you for understanding,”_ he said in a sincere tone. _“So…you are a Servant as well, then?”_ He asked, wanting to confirm that she meant what she had meant with her words.

“Doctor…” Mash said in a mixture of exasperation and warning at the admittedly tactless way the acting-director had phrased the question. Boudica, however, merely chuckled, waving a hand.

“No, no, it’s all right. You don’t have to hold your tongue,” she interjected, and I rolled my eyes slightly when I hear the loud sigh of relief from the doctor. “Yes, I should be dead already, as I am sure some of you have been thinking. I also see that you find this strange. Perhaps asking yourselves, ‘How did Queen Boudica become a Roman general?’ Right?” She asked, with a small, wry smirk on her lips. Mash nodded.

“Yes. In the history that I’m aware of you—” I raised a hand slightly, cutting off Mash as I realized she might not have considered how touchy the things she had been about to say might be.

“I think what my friend is trying to say is, shouldn’t you be eager to see these two Roman factions grind one another into dust?” I asked. Boudica nodded, a conflicted expression replacing her earlier cheer.

“Part of me does want that. After all, I’ll never forgive Emperor Nero or Rome. Even the Celtic gods know of this. And yet, I materialized, to the era right after my death, of all things. I did think at first that maybe this was a chance for revenge, but when I saw Rome overrun by the United Empire…my body just moved on its own. Not for Nero’s sake,” Boudica said, her eyes hardening at the name of the emperor sleeping not too far away from us before softening slightly. “It was for the people who lived there.” She paused again, now with a remorseful expression in her eyes as she sighed sadly.

“Or was it perhaps because I feel guilty towards the Londinium fellows that were brutally murdered in the sake of my vengeance? I don’t really know myself, but when I think about it, I’ve always been like that,” she admitted with a rueful smile. “I think fighting to protect something is just my personality. That’s what seems most natural to me. So, my apologies to Nero, who wrongly sees me as a ‘worthy living opponent’, but…”

“Are you keeping your Servant status a secret?” Ritsuka asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he stared at her through steepled fingers. The Servant nodded grimly.

“Yes, because somehow she’s more dangerous than before. If she becomes overly concerned about me, who knows what she would do?” She asked rhetorically.

“I think I understand,” Mash responded. “You’re a proper Heroic Servant. A hero whom others aspire to be. The symbol of strength used to suppress villainy, and to save others.”

“Nyahaha, I was just doing it on a whim,” Boudica said dismissively, and the somber atmosphere finally began to dispel. “Although, if that’s how I look to you, who am I to disagree?” She added, smiling warmly at the Demi-Servant.

 _“There aren’t many Heroic Spirits who could put it like that. Queen Boudica, your pride is dazzling,”_ Doctor Roman said, clearly awed by her.

“Still, Ms. Boudica, I don’t quite understand why you chose to stand with Rome.”

“It’s not that difficult. I dislike the United Empire more than Nero. Spartacus feels the same way,” she added, though the Berserker was off doing who knows what. Not that I was complaining about his absence. Nothing against him, but the well-built man was quite loud.

Suddenly, however, Boudica stood up, drawing her sword, though not exactly pointing it to us. I raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re not planning on revealing that you’re a traitor or something,” I said jokingly. Boudica shook her head as she planted the tip of her weapon into the ground.

“Not at all. I apologize for this, especially knowing that you’re probably exhausted, but I must get a feel of your group. I don’t doubt your skills…well, maybe I do. Right now, the United Empire controls most of Gaul. Not even Spartacus and I have been able to drive them out. The ‘ruler’ of Gaul—” Boudica paused, her lips twisting into a grimace. “One the ‘emperors’, is strong. There’s nothing excessive about him, be it body or mind. He’s a top-notch hero in both looks, and more crucially, skills. Therefore, I need to know this: Do you have the strength to fight him head-on, or should I use you as back-up?” She bowed slightly.

“My apologies, but could I put your abilities to the test?” Ritsuka and I exchanged glances.

“What did you have in mind?” Ritsuka asked hesitantly.

“Two of your Servants against Spartacus and myself. Spartacus is off readying a clearing not far from the camp to use.”

 _“What?”_ Roman suddenly interjected. Perhaps his earlier silence was because of shock over the suddenness of the Servant’s actions and words. Something I can’t find it in myself to blame him. _“I thought you were a rational queen, but it turns out you’re a hero who ‘speaks’ with her sword!”_

“Now you’ve got the idea,” Boudica said with a laugh. Mordred was smirking, already standing, though Clarent hadn’t been summoned. Seeing as how she was currently both the strongest and also the most offensive-oriented of my four Servants, there was no question that she was going to be one of the two Servants to face off against the two. “Now, shall we? Just try not to die,” she said, though it was clear her words were more for a humorous effect, as opposed to a warning as she smirked. “When we’re done, I’ll whip up something delicious for you guys. I did say that I would get you feed, but it will be with Britannia cuisine, and none of the silly Roman stuff.”

“A fight _and_ free food? Must be my lucky day,” Mordred retorted with her trademark brashness, cracking her neck slightly in preparation. Nearby, Mash also stood after having her own exchange of looks with my fellow Master. So, we had our two ‘champions’ ready. As much as I am not happy about this turn of events, I won’t deny that Boudica had a point, as we followed her. Five minutes later, we had found the clearing we would be using for this test of combat. Mash and Mordred stood on one side, facing off against Spartacus and Boudica. The former was laughing eagerly, sounding quite mad. In other words, a typical Berserker, it seems.

“Any rules?” I asked, watching as Mordred and Mash seemed to be whispering to one another. Were they coming up with a plan? For all that Mordred seemed to focus on using brute strength in battle, I felt she was also someone who wouldn’t be above using tactics. Either way, despite being in the dark about their skills and fighting styles for the Berserker and Rider who we had to defeat, I felt confidant that we would prevail.

“Neither side can use Noble Phantasms,” Boudica replied. “Do either of your chosen fighters have a problem with this."

"No, Miss Boudica,” mash replied dutifully, while next to her, Mordred shrugged, a cocky smile present.

“Eh, with or without my Noble Phantasm, I’m still going to crush you two!” She said tauntingly, Clarent materializing in her hands. “Ready, Shieldly?”

“Y-Yes.” Mash said, looking towards the far larger Berserker apparently.

“Excellent. My True Name is Boudica, class Rider! Be careful, for my chariot is extremely strong!”

* * *

The clearing rang with steel against steel. Grunts and battle cries intermingled with these sounds of combat, as I watched pensively. I might be confidant in victory, but as history has revealed, fortune is a most fickle mistress. Still, at least for now, the battle seemed to be going well.

Apparently, either Mordred or Mash had suggested that the latter focus on holding off Spartacus while the Saber dealt with Boudica. Regardless of who came up with it, the idea certainly had its merits. Mash’s unique class as a Shielder had apparently neutralized any class advantage over her, even the powerhouses known as Berserkers. That fact, when combined with her more defensive-oriented weapon, stats, and fighting style, made her far more suitable at tanking Spartacus’s attacks as Mordred focused on knocking out the former gladiator’s partner.

Ritsuka instinctively flinched every time Spartacus’s sword slammed against the massive cross-shaped shield, and we could see that Mash struggle slightly in pushing back the weapon each time. The Berserker used his weapon more like a bladed sledgehammer, pouring massive amounts of strength into each blow.

Against anyone other than a Servant or a high-tier monster, I highly doubt that one could survive a single blow from the brute. And yet, despite his best efforts, Spartacus’s attacks failed to penetrate Mash’s defenses. Whoever she had formed a contract with in order to become a Demi-Servant must have been one who was highly skilled in the art of the defense indeed.

“Hang in there, Mash!” Ritsuka called out, his hands balled into firsts so tightly his knuckles were turning white. I grunted, and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, Ritsuka. Take deep breathes. If we need to, we have eight other Servants standing around us who will intervene. Have faith in your, ah, kouhai,” I said, the foreign term still feeling, well, foreign to me. My fellow Master forced himself to relax slightly, though his deep blue eyes were still locked on the pink-haired fighter.

I shifted my gaze to Mordred, as Clarent slammed against Boudica’s thinner sword. Neither opponent had managed to injure the other, Mordred keeping Boudica on the defensive while the Rider’s shield and counters prevented the massive broadsword from delivering any damage. I had little doubt that as the seconds went by, Mordred was growing more and more impatient.

The Knight of Rebellion began to increase the tempo of her flurry of attacks, twisting her body slightly in an attempt to deliver a solid hit by trying to swing from different directions and angles. While her expression was strained, Boudica, much like Mash, maintained her guard, even as the powerful swings began to push her backwards physically.

“Damn it,” Mordred roared, her competitive nature driving her forward. Mash grunted as Spartacus slammed his sword down onto her shield, shaking the ground beneath their feet violently. It’s starting to look like this fight is becoming a duel of willpower, with victory increasingly hinging on which of the two female defensive Servants is dealt with first.

With her free hand, Mordred suddenly grabbed the top rim of Boudica’s shield, pulling it hard. Boudica’s eyes widened in shock, while I flinched as a meaty _smack_ was heard as the Rider was dragged roughly into Mordred’s sword-wielding hand. Boudica released an instinctive cry of pain, stumbling backwards slightly.

Mordred grinned, and swung her sword in a one-handed blow, though unlike every other time, she has the flat of her blade showing, reducing the chances of the blow causing serious damage. Stunned from the punch, and her shield still held in Mordred’s right hand, Boudica was unable to do anything other than tank the blow.

The Rider gasped in pain, bending over before a kick to her midriff from the Knight of Rebellion sent her tumbling backwards on the ground. At that point, I felt that victory was assured, and in less than a minute, my prediction proved true.

It took some effort, but outnumbered two-to-one, and with a handicap in this match, the powerful Berserker was whittled down by hit after hit until he feel to one knee, and Boudica called out an end to this match, pushing herself off of the ground steadily, a small rueful grin showing that she held no ill will to Mordred, who walked over to me, her helmet retracted and a large smirk on her lips as she stared at me expectantly.

“Well done, Mordred,” I said proudly, clapping the equally-proud Saber’s armor.

“It was a good warm-up,” Mordred responded in her usual boastful manner, before looking at a tired Mash. “Good job holding your ground back there,” Mordred said, giving her teammate a rare compliment. Mash smiled slightly, and straightened up. She seemed to hold the opinions of full Heroic Spirits in high regard, and so a compliment from one must have felt awesome.

It was also a good sign that indicated for me that Mordred was more inclined by now to be a team member, as opposed to a sorta lone wolf that she tended to be in battle. While it hadn’t led to any problems for Ritsuka or I yet, I had always been nervous about that possibility coming up, but what I had just witnessed helped alleviate those concerns.

“Ah. That was a good fight,” Boudica said, brushing the dust off of her clothing. The Rider was taking her loss in stride, smiling in a mixture of relief and sheepishness. “I must say, I am quite happy to have been proven wrong about you guys. You have shown me just how competent you are. Thank you. I know you must be exhausted from your travels. My defense and Spartacus’s offense matches pretty well together, and yet your two Servants held their own against us. I underestimated you!” She added cheerfully, before sheathing her sword and dismissing her shield. “Well, I promised food, and it’s time to deliver on that. All you guys need to do is to sit back and just relax while I show you what _real_ food tastes like!”

* * *

Boudica must have been one hell of a great cook in life.

I highly doubt that anyone else would argue against that statement, especially seeing as how much gusto had been displayed after the first few tentative bites of our freshly-made supper.

We had watched as the Rider had placed a cauldron over the now-roaring firepit, and soon a savory smell began to tease our senses as some of us, myself included, leaned forward hungrily as we watched Boudica’s confidant ease as she had added in various ingredients without a second look.

The food was very good, the meat warm, soft, and savory, its flavor enhanced with spices and herbs. It was an almost herculean effort for me to not wolf it down, though, unless Mordred somehow got her hands on the pot without any of us noticing, there would be more than enough for a second serving.

“I must say, Miss Boudica, that this may have been one of the finest meals I have ever had!” Marie said, having finished chewing a bite with an appraisingly expression before speaking. Boudica’s cheeks flushed slightly in pleasure.

“You’re too kind!” Boudica replied dismissively. The French Rider’s words gave me an admittedly selfish idea, however, of seeing if Boudica wouldn’t mind helping out Chaldea’s kitchen staff should she ever be summoned after our return. I highly doubt that Ritsuka would disagree with me, considering how his eyes were screwed shut in enjoyment as he savored his own mouthful of the warm stew.

“You fought well, Mordred,” Boudica suddenly said, her own appraising look showing as she swept her gaze

“Well, I was only second to my father in life,” Mordred responded. I was thankful she had closed her eyes as she said one of her typical boasts, for I had rolled my eyes good-naturedly slightly at her antics. Boudica hummed before looking at the Demi-Servant sitting next to my fellow Master.

“As for you…Mash, was it?” She asked, waiting on the Demi-Servant, who nodded with a simple ‘yes’. “You’re a shield-wielding Heroic Spirit, right? I really like you. I know it’s twisted to have a weapon solely for defense, but to me, it’s far better than to have one solely for killing.” Suddenly, an impish expression appears on Boudica’s face. “I mean, how can you be so reliable when you’re so slim?” She asked.

“Fou?” Mash’s critter friend chimed in what sounded like confusion, while a bright blush overtook the girl’s features.

“R-Reliable?” She stammered nervously, her hand clutching the empty bowl slightly. Boudica emphatically nodded, her smile widening.

“Yes, when you wielded your shield and stood your ground, as Spartacus launched attack after attack against you…it was like you’d taken root,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes. Her tone was an admiring one, and Mash’s impression of a tomato became even more life-like. “If ‘Lord’ Nero is the violence of fire, then you’re the riches of the earth. I think you’d be compatible with just about any Heroic Spirit.”

Mash looked away, looking down shyly. “…Right,” she whispered softly. Boudica nodded.

“Yes, good answer. Indeed, indeed…hmmm….” Boudica said, though to my ears her words sounded half-hearted, as if she was just saying them more for conversation than putting any real thought into them. Instead, she stared intently at the still-blushing Mash. “Hmmmm, hmmmm,” she hummed. I was starting to feel like I was missing something here, and Mash looked up with her rosy-hued cheeks.

“E-Excuse me?” She coughed politely. Boudica suddenly snapped her fingers, an excited look back in her eyes. “Now that I’ve looked at you carefully, yes. I see. So that’s what it is. If that’s the case, you should have just told me!”

“Huh?” Mordred and I said in unison, and I could faintly hear Jeanne and Marie snickering at us. I swear, Marie’s definitely been an influence on the shy maiden, that’s for damn sure.

“Excuse me?” Mash repeated, equally confused. Boudica closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

“Things are getting complicated, aren’t they? Even we…ah, I just noticed,” Boudica says in an apologetic yet mysterious tone. Ugh, this is worse than trying to bend my head around Da Vinci’s whole shtick! “How adorable!” Boudica crooned, ignoring my mental plight as she took a step towards Mash.

“Huh?” She said, blinking at the approaching redhead.

“Come here, come here,” Boudica said sweetly, embracing Mash tightly, and pulling the surprised Demi-Servant close to her bosom. “There, there,” she croons, rocking her body slightly side-to-side as she continued the hug.

“Ah—W-What is it, Boudica?” Mash stammered, trapped in the Servant’s grasp. “Augh…What’s with you all of a sudden?” Boudica’s smile looked like it was about to become its own entity, so massive it was as she beamed down at the smaller girl.

“You’re like a little sister to me. Maybe you both are. There, there.” _Both_? I instinctively look down at my (thankfully) flat chest, then at Ritsuka, who was doing the same. Wait…. “I’m so proud of you, coming from a faraway time period. You’re so strong,” Boudica exclaimed, hugging the slightly-thrashing Mash tighter. Unintentionally, however, the former queen had begun smothering the poor girl with her…’assets’.

“Um…?”

“Boudica, I think your chest is mashing Mash…” Ritsuka said. I whirled my head violently, glaring at him. I’m not sure which is worse: Ritsuka’s word choice, or his pun? Damn it, that was a good one though.

“Y-Your chest…” Mash wheezed, her voice muffled. “I can’t breathe…” Mash sounded faint, and her struggling started to slow down slightly. Uh-oh. Before I could ask Mordred or Jeanne to help out, though, Boudica laughed in embarrassment and released the faint-looking Shielder.

“Ahahaha, sorry about the energy there,” Boudica said, though not exactly sounding repentant. In fact, I suspect that if given a chance, she would gladly repeat her affectionate hug. “You called yourself Nero’s ally, so I was on my guard back there, sorry! But now I’m in a great mood!” Finally, I threw my head back and released a loud bark of laughter, staring at the kind-hearted Servant with a lop-sided grin.

“You must have been one hell of a great mother, Boudica,” I said, before Mordred suddenly scoffed at that. We all turned to look at her. I had a sinking feeling behind her reaction, but hold my tongue. It’s one thing to talk about what I have seen of her past with her. Even with the bond that has been built through combat and on a personal level, however, I highly doubt she would appreciate me disclosing such matters, especially without her permission.

“Mordred?” Ritsuka asked.

“The hell are you talking about, Master?” Mordred interjected with a frown, crossing her arms. “Mom’s don’t look out for other people. Damn sure not like this.” She said the words without much thought, it seems, and in her defense, she hadn’t had a healthy example of what a mother _should_ be like. I grit my teeth as memories of a far younger Mordred crying out in pain flashed through my mind.

Fucking Morgan Le Fay…

Whether she meant it to be or not, the result was that everyone, even Spartacus, looked at the blonde with expression ranging from shock and concern, to horror and disgust. Of course, they had no idea just how bad Mordred’s…mother…was, both as a person and in how she treated the future Knight of Rebellion.

“What?” Mordred asked, her frown turning into a scowl as she looked around. She looked somewhat uncomfortable with the gazes she was receiving. “What’d I say?”

One Servant in particular seemed to be especially affected by this, and I looked towards her with a critical gaze.

Boudica’s eyes went through a dizzy array of expressions, first being widened with shock, then hardened with anger, before softening into one of sympathy. Without saying anything, the Rider walked over to the cross-looking Saber.

“W-Why the hell are you getting so close, or looking at me like that?” Mordred said, startled at her fellow English Servant’s actions. Boudica remained silent, staring intently as Mordred’s brow furrowed. “Hey, answer me!” Mordred demands, standing up, her body tense.

Uh-oh…

I spring up from my rock, ready to force myself between the two Servants before Mordred starts a brawl or something when Boudica finally broken the tense stand-off.

“There, there,” Boudica said kindly once more, rocking the armored Saber gently. “Mama Boudica is here to help you, brave knight of Britannia.” Mordred looked over her shoulder, her emerald eyes wide as she stared at me in the closest that I have ever come to seeing her plead. Though, in her defense, I would sure as hell feel awkward, to say the least, if I was in her position.

I also noted what the Rider had referred to Mordred as. An English knight. Perhaps the former queen has a soft spot for any Heroic Spirits that are also from England? I make a mental note to inquire about this as I gaze on at Mordred’s predicament in a mixture of humor and sympathy.

At least this time one of our Servants would only have to worry about being smothered with affection, as opposed to also being physical smothered.

“O-Oi, Master!” Mordred sputtered more in shock than anger, trying to break free from the hug. “Can you get this bastard off of me?!?” Unfortunately for her, we were all to busy either smiling or, for the more bold (or perhaps suicidal?) members, laughing at her display.

Finally, I coughed. “Hey, Boudica, while I appreciate what you’re trying to do, do you mind letting go off Mordred now? She’s had enough,” I said calmly, recognizing Mordred’s scowl and twitching eyebrow. Thankfully, the Briton nodded and released the smaller blonde, who leapt backwards, crossing her arms and slouching slightly, clearly irritated.

“Yes, well, now that’s been decided, my brave knight, if you need anything, just come straight to me,” Mordred’s new self-declared mother said in an almost pious tone. Mordred scoffed and looked away, upset at the loss of dignity. I’d talk to her in the morning, once she’s had time to cool off. I could recognize the signs that she wanted to be left alone, even before she turned around with her helmet covering her face once more as she stormed off into one of the tents set aside from us.

Still, though, as we continued chatting around the fire for a little while longer before we had to go to bed (or at least Ritsuka and I would have to do), my mind was smiling as I reflected on the scene I had just witnessed. I was greatly pleased to see that Mordred might have a chance at experiencing what it was like to have a mother figure who acted like a mother should, even if it might be too late for the Saber.

 _‘She deserved to be happy, after all, and I had decided that I would do all in my power to see this possibly selfish desire of mine to come true,’_ I thought to myself in the privacy of my own tent, closing my eyes and surrendering to the warm embrace of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think of Boudica essentially adopting Mordred, whether our favorite knight wants it or not? I hope that I wrote one way that Mordred could have reacted to this well, but what do y'all think? Also, enjoyed reading another Servant battle? I didn't want it to be too long since it's not a battle to the death really, but I hope it wasn't too short.
> 
> With eevry chapter I'm drawing clsoer and closer to making Jacob and Mordred an offical couple for this story.....ah! So exciting!
> 
> For the question(s) of the day: Who is your favorite Servant duo fighting partners you like to use in FGO? For me it is Mordred and Jalter, because of Jalter's attack enhancement having a double effect for Mordred. The second question is, what is your favorite Halloween movie?
> 
> As always, thank you guys and gals for reading another chapter and leaving useful feedback last chapter! Can't wait for what I will get for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed, and see you next chapter!


	36. The Battle for Gaul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made and the Battle for Gaul begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! Enjoy and see you below!

I grunted slightly as I opened my eyes, squinting against the ray of light that was making its way though the gap of my tent’s entrance, heralding the arrival of morning. I stretch my upper back slightly, hearing a soft _clicking_ sound as I popped my somewhat sore joints. Nero must have spoiled me with that bed she had lent me, especially compared to sleeping on the ground with only a thick blanket to serve as a mattress.

On the bright side, it had been another night that I hadn’t had to witness yet another gut-wrenching moment of Mordred’s past, though it made me wonder if I was going to have another one? I shake my head slightly, dismissing the irrelevant thought. I had no control over that kind of stuff, so it would be counterproductive to focus too much on that matter.

Now fully awake, I could hear the faint sounds of chatter and clattering, as the Roman soldiers of the camp proceed with their various morning routines. Thankfully, we were nowhere close to the center of the camp, where Nero was and also undoubtedly the loudest area to be in right now. However, I heard the sounds of grunting, and something whistling through the air, sounding to be about a few hundred feet away from my tent.

My curiosity piqued, I poked my head out of the shade of my tent and looked first towards the right, and then the left, seeing nothing. Stepping out of my tent, I looked behind me, and saw the source of the noise.

Mordred was practicing her swordsmanship, striking and parrying empty air in lieu of a partner. I couldn’t tell what her expression was, her horned helmet covering her visage, but I had a few ideas why she was doing this.

The first was that she was just doing something. I suspected that perhaps in life Mordred might have suffered from ADHD, seeing as how she struggled to sit down and keep still or quiet unless something big was bothering her, or a few other rare situations. Another reason could be that she was working off her embarrassment at the hands of Boudica at dinner last night. If that was the case, at least she had come up with a constructive way to work out her frustration.

I watched quietly as my first Servant continued her exercises. No doubt an old habit from her days as a living knight, I decided as I took in her figure. Then I felt that someone was standing beside me, though who it was, I couldn’t tell. Without looking over my shoulder, I spoke out softly, so as to not distract Mordred. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too, Jacob,” Boudica said, and I turned to look at the smiling Servant. “Did you sleep well?” She asked, a hint of concern in her voice. She really did feel like a mother hen.

“Mhm,” I responded lazily, looking back at the Knight of Rebellion. A quiet moment of silence followed my response, as Boudica moved a bit closer, now standing beside me as her own gaze settled on the armored blonde.

“I fear I may have embarrassed your knight last night,” Boudica suddenly said. I hummed in agreement, looking at the Knight of Rebellion as she continued her sword drills. “Though I did mean every word I said to her,” she added quickly.

“Yeah. Well, as you may have guessed, Mordred didn’t exactly have what you could call a happy childhood,” I responded slowly, taking care to not reveal too much of Mordred’s personal details. This time it was Boudica who hummed her agreement.

“It’s a pity that I can’t really adopt her, seeing as how I feel that there’s probably only a week or two at most left before you guys manage to fix everything. Still, she doesn’t seem miserable, at least,” Boudica said. I looked at her, quirking an eyebrow at that.

“Your concern….is it because she comes from the same country as you?” I asked.

“In a way. I view all Heroic Spirits of Britannia who came after my time as my children,” Boudica responded with ease. “I guess you can say that I especially have a special fondness for Arthur and his knights in particular. Yes, even the infamous treacherous knight, Mordred. Though, I have a feeling that there is more to that now, even if you won’t tell me,” Boudica added, without accusation.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not my past to share,” I agreed, looking back at the very person we were discussing. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Boudica give me another affectionate smile.

“You really do care for her, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I care for all of my Servants,” I said, confused at her question. I mean, I know that a lot of Masters in the past tend to view Servants as little more than tools, and disposable ones in the end, too. It was just another generalization that kept me away from wanting to do business in the future with the various old Magus families. Boudica laughed softly, and I turn to her once more.

“There’s no question about that,” Boudica said with an impish hint in her tone. “Something I am pleased to see, too, but that’s not what I am talking about.” My brow furrows, and I stare intently at the Rider.

“It’s too early for this,” I said with a soft sigh, shaking my head.

“I can tell you have feelings for her.”

“….Come again?” I finally said, taken aback by the brusque manner in which she had delivered those words.

“Oh, interesting. Humor me, please, young one, and tell me what you think of Mordred,” Boudica asked. Unable to figure out what she is getting at, I took a few minutes to reflect on her request. Bizarre as she is being, maybe she’s has something worth knowing?

“Mordred is a proud and mighty knight. Sure, she has a bit of a temper, tends to boast a lot, and is always eager to get into a fight. But despite her title, she has never once tried to do anything subversive, and has been extremely loyal. I told her when we first met that I would put my trust blindly in her, and I haven’t regretted that choice ever since. I’m proud to have her as my friend and partner,” I said in all earnest.

“You feel she is incredible?”

“In a way, yes.”

“Dependable?”

“Yes, like I thought I implied,” I said, starting to get impatient with the Rider general.

“Pretty?”

“Ye—, okay, enough word games,” I growled softly, looking away quickly. I am not sure who I am growling out: the inquisitive redhead, or myself? Wait…is Boudica trying to imply something along the romantic line?

Ridiculous! I mean, sure, I do find Mordred attractive, in her own way. I had realized that a few days before the Rayshift to this time, after putting a long amount of thought into it. But, finding someone attractive doesn’t mean that you have romantic feelings for them….right?

To my discomfort, I can’t deny that there is the slightest of possibilities that this may actually be the case. I shake my head slightly, grinding my teeth slightly.

Okay, well, even if I really do have feelings for Mordred, _romantic_ feelings, I highly doubt that it would lead to anything. I mean, first of all, is this really the time to be dealing with anything related to hormones? Secondly, it could destroy all of my efforts to build a close friendship with the shorter blonde. She doesn’t strike me as the one to care for the possibility of romance, and even if she did, I highly doubt that she would consider me.

But…what if she…?

No, stop it, Jacob! Don’t fall down this damn rabbit hole any further. Thankfully, the instigator of this brief mental crisis had remained silent, watching me with a patient expression when I look back at her, giving her a stern look.

“Boudica, I ask that you stop this foolishness, please,” I said in a polite, but firm, manner.

“Alright. I can see that maybe I was out of line,” Boudica responded, before looking back at Mordred. “Forget I said anything. On another note, do you think I should offer your Servant an apology for last night?” She said, to my relief at the change in topics. Despite my discomfort, I will not deny that my gut is telling me that the former queen had meant no ill. So long as she doesn’t bring this up, I see no reason to be rude to her. I hum to myself for a few minutes, mulling over Boudica’s request before finally speaking softly, my tone warmer.

“You can try talking to her after we finish this meeting you mentioned,” I suggested. Boudica perked up at the idea. “I can’t promise Mordred will be willing to talk, but I can get her to wait and hopefully, hear you out.”

“That is enough for me. It looks like Mordred has noticed our presence,” Boudica said, and sure enough, the short blonde was looking at us. “I’ll go get breakfast ready, before getting ready for the meeting. Help yourselves to however much you want,” she said cheerfully before turning away. I shook my head slightly.

While I could imagine far worse ways that could have started off my morning, this was certainly a confusing one. I walked over to my Servant, smiling slightly.

“Morning, Jacob,” Mordred greeted me, her helmet retracted and her ponytail falling down. She planted Clarent into the ground and leaned slightly against it with one arm, the other on her hip.

“Good morning, Mordred,” I returned the greeting. “Looks like you had a good warm-up for today

“Eh. I was just bored and figured this would be a good way to do so,” Mordred responded in her flippant manner, rolling her eyes slightly as she did so. “So, what did that annoying Rider want?” She said, still on edge in anything regarding the Briton, as I had suspected. I shrugged half-heartedly.

“To be honest, I have no idea. You do realize though that she meant no ill, ri—” Mordred stopped me mid-sentence with a raised hand and a stern gaze.

“I’m not in the mood to talk about last night,” Mordred said bluntly. I nod, signaling my understanding, and the blonde relaxes slightly.

“Fair enough. I do know a thing or two you are in the mood for, though,” I said teasingly, and the Knight of Rebellion cocked an eyebrow as she straightened up while dismissing Clarent.

“Oh? And what could those be?”

“Well, within the hour, breakfast. In a couple more, a battle to be won.”

* * *

We were gathered in Nero’s opulent tent. Present was the Emperor of Roses herself, Boudica, Spartacus, Ritsuka, Mash, our Servants and myself, and about a half dozen or so Roman officers.

“What are our numbers?” I asked rather gruffly, looking at the map.

“In addition to Nero’s legion, we have the _Legio V Alaudae_ , the _Legio VI Ferrata,_ and the _Legio XIV Gemina_. However, the last two are at half-strength, and remaining one is down a quarter of it’s fighting potential.” I vaguely recognized the names of the legions. The first two had fought under Caesar, while the latter had been one of the legions responsible for crushing Boudica’s revolt. Talk about salt in the wound, right there.

“What they lack in numbers, however, they make up for in their determination to resist these oppressors!” Spartacus roared. While we didn’t really respond to his words, he did have a point. Countless times in history have seen an understrength army overcome long odds.

“What about the enemy?” I asked.

“Originally, the commander had five legions. From our scouts, it seems that two of them had been withdrawn in the past few weeks, perhaps to serve as the expedition force that Nero had driven back from Rome,” Boudica said, gesturing at the map.

So, we had about the same number of soldiers. Unfortunately, we can’t afford to wait for further reinforcements. Seeing as how it took less than twenty-four hours for word to reach the border of Ritsuka and I, I had little doubt that the enemy commander might also know from any spies amongst the ranks. If he had requested reinforcements from his co-conspirators, then we were on a race against time.

“We need to sever the head of the snake,” Gilles spoke up, the former French marshal staring critically at the map. An obvious answer, but still one worth voicing. Knowing our current track record, this is going to most definitely be a case of it being easier said than done.

“I doubt no one will disagree with this, but what is the best way to go about this?” A grizzled-looking officer responded, holding a helmet with a transverse horsehair crest dyed a rich blue.

“Agreed. We lack superior numbers, just as they seem to. A frontal assault, perhaps?” Another officer suggested, though he didn’t sound too serious about the very tactic he had just put forth. Nero shook her head firmly.

“No. I refuse to sacrifice the entire army just to kill one of these pretenders,” Nero countered.

“What if we try to draw them out onto two sides?” Ritsuka interjected besides me. No one responded at first, each of the participants, myself included, weighing the pros and cons of the idea.

On one hand, it could weaken the enemy’s defenses but forcing them to defend multiple directions. However, it would mean that we would have to spread out the soldiers Nero and her subordinates had in order to make good on any breakthroughs in the enemy lines. Granted, though, that this could be evened out by the presence of so many Servants on our side.

“I concur with my comrade,” I finally said, nodding slightly in Ritsuka’s direction. “Furthermore, I suggest that we focus primarily on breaking into the enemy camp with a small, elite force while the rest pin down the main line of resistance. As Gilles said, we kill the enemy general, his men will undoubtedly break ranks and retreat, Your Majesty,” I added, finding my support for Ritsuka’s idea growing stronger the more I think on it.

“Spartacus and I will take the Sixth and Fourteenth legions, and will focus our assault on the right flank,” Boudica jumped in, signaling her own agreement with the plan, while beside her the massive Berserker threw back his head to release a roar of laughter before ranting about how we would crush the oppressors and whatnot.

And I had thought that Mordred was rather battle-hungry…

“Does anyone have any problems with the plan?” Nero asked, having been swayed it seems, her eyes sweeping across all present, looking somewhat impatient. Seeing and hearing no oppositions from her subordinates, Nero nodded.

“Very good, then. We move out in one hour,” Nero said, waving a hand to dismisses us, and then left, as everyone else began to file out. I had a feeling she was going to give her soldiers a pre-battle speech, and thankfully I have an excuse to not stand about and listen to her. I locked eyes with Boudica, giving her a subtle nod. If she wanted to talk to Mordred, now was her chance.

I firmly gripped the pauldron protecting Mordred’s right shoulder, keeping her in place as everyone else but Boudica left. She glared at me while Boudica coughed slightly, and Mordred’s emerald eyes swung towards the Rider. “Mordred.”

“What do you want?” Mordred asked in a mixture of annoyance and impatience, staring at Boudica with a guarded expression.

“While I don’t regret my actions last night, or what I said, I would like to apologize for causing you any embarrassment,” the Rider said in a calm tone, bowing her head slightly.

“Just…don’t do it again, and you owe me,” Mordred finally sighed. Suddenly, a smirk came to her lips. “You said you have a chariot, right? That is your mount in combat?” I raised an eyebrow at the blonde, feeling somewhat at ease with the sudden 180 that the Saber just pulled.

“Correct,” Boudica said, sounding equally confused as I, whilst Mordred’s smirk grew bigger.

“Let me give it a spin after we kick this guy’s ass, and we’ll be good,” Mordred suggested, and a smiling Boudica voiced her consent to the idea. I shivered slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up slightly, as if an invisible entity was warning me of danger. I forced it down, shaking my head and feeling silly.

I mean, how bad could it be to ride in a chariot driven by her?

* * *

“Push forward, damn it! Don’t let up! For Rome!” Nero cried out, spurring her horse forward while Ritsuka and I, along with our Servants, followed close behind.

The battle had started over an hour ago, and we were only now finally beginning to make serious forward progress. First, Chiron led the Roman archers into firing three devastating volleys even as the rest of our army completed its final preparations. The first volley had essentially wiped out most of the United Empire’s missile troops, while the second and third had inflicted slightly less amount of loss

Nero’s _Legio I Italica_ had borne the brunt of the enemy’s countercharge, which had swiftly devolved into a bloody stalemate for a good fifteen minutes. It was hard for me to drown out the sounds of soldiers shouting and cursing at one another. The horrid cries for help, or pleas to the Roman deities of the wounded, while the dying cried out for their mothers, their fathers…

War truly is hell.

I almost fell to my knees with sheer relief when the center of the enemy line began to buckle, and the ranks of the rearmost soldiers began dissolving as a call to retreat billowed forth. Nero then ordered the advance, and now we were approaching the outskirts of the enemy encampment. A formidable structure, with tall wooden palisades, the front gate hanging open when suddenly, two things happened simultaneously.

The first was a series of explosions of sort as sections of the fort were turned into splinters, while the second was my commlink going off. I had a feeling they were connected somehow, and I was proven right as I activated it, and an alarmed-sounding Roman shouted through our connection.

 _“New enemy signature inbound! Magical creature, be careful!”_ Doctor Roman called out over the commlink, just as somewhere between thirty to forty large, humanoid-looking things appeared from the various holes in the encampment’s wall. They looked to be made of solid rock, and each had a bestial-shaped head with eyes made of bright rubies. A wave of uncertainty overtook Nero’s soldiers at this latest development, while the soldiers of the United Empire began cheering, rallying once more.

“Golems!” I don’t know who had shouted out the word, but there was no mistaking the animated statues as golems.

“Hold your ground!” Nero bellowed loudly, waving her sword over her head and forcing her mount to rear up onto its hind legs. “They are merely lifeless puppets! Hold your ground, and fight hard! Archers, form ranks at the rear and focus on the enemy formation! Don’t let them form up again!” Her words seemed to have been imbued with a sense of command, of authority. Her charisma, perhaps?

Whatever it was, the end result was still the same. Discipline among the ranks were restored, and in a few seconds the auxiliaries that served as the army’s archers released a volley upon the heads of the United Empire soldiers.

“Praetor,” Nero called out, and I turned to her. “Can your knights deal with these creatures?” She asked, gesturing at the golems. I answered without missing a beat.

“Leave it to us,” I said, turning to my Servants. “Sasaki, Jeanne, Mordred! Take them down!”

“Wow, haven’t seen ones that look like those before,” Mordred said, tapping her chin as she cocked her head to the side slightly, before another one of her feral sneers appeared. “Let’s crush them!” I shake my head, laughing slightly.

“Okay, I’m counting on you, Mordred!”

“Right!” Mordred shot back as her helmet hid her face from view, and she activated her Mana Burst ability, before surging forward like a bullet. I looked away briefly to avoid the dust kicked up by her movement getting into my eyes, and when I turn back to look at her, she was almost in front of the lead golem.

The knight leapt forward, pushing herself into the air with one armored knee extended, slamming it firmly into the head of the golem and shattering it. Not slowing down for even a second, my first Servant clambered up the falling torso of the defeated construct before using it as a ledge from which to jump towards another, Clarent raised in an overhead strike.

With a flash of red and silver, the massive blade cleaved the golem nearly in half. Then she turned into a blur, and a quartet of golems suddenly began falling to pieces as the other Servants joined the fray.

Using her flagstaff, Jeanne blocked the fist of a golem, before Sasaki quite literally disarmed the crude-looking construct with a single, graceful strike. The damaged golem raised it’s other hand in an attempt to squash the two, when a beam of magical energy from Medea carved a hole through the torso.

In a matter of minutes, the strong but cumbersome artificial creatures were annihilated by the stronger and more agile Heroic Spirits aiding us, and the threat to Nero’s followers was ended as they slammed into the somewhat still-disorganized line of infantry standing between the us and the enemy commander.

 _“Looks like that was the last of them. That still leaves me with a question, however,”_ Doctor Roman reported as we took the moment to regroup while Nero’s loyalists continued their assault against the increasingly-thinning UA lines. “ _Where they the word of an enemy Servant or mage? Or was it Lev Lainur—?”_

“Doctor, this isn’t a good time,” I interrupted.

“Jacob is right! Look over there! There’s a gap we can use to get into the enemy’s main camp, and defeat this pretender,” Nero added, looking furious at the idea of delaying that encounter any further. A sentiment I could fully understand. Even if the enemy army is crushed, if their commander gets away, they would simply raise more legions somehow and essentially leave us back at square one.

“Gilles, Chulainn, Medea, Marie!” Ritsuka suddenly called out.

“Yes, Ritsuka?” Marie asked sweetly. “Can you guys stay with the army, and make sure that they’re not about to be ambushed by more golems or even Servants while the rest of us deal with their commander?”

“Piece of cake!” Chulainn snorted. I turned to my look over at my Servants.

“Jeanne, can you and Sasaki also stay back?”

“Leave it to us,” Jeanne said resolutely, using my own earlier words against me, and therefore earning a lopsided grin. I shook my head in amusement, before turning to the others.

“Let’s finish this battle.”

* * *

To our surprise, what greeted us wasn’t more soldiers, but an empty square. Had those golems been this mysterious pretender’s reserve force? If so, why didn’t he leave any behind to defend himself, I found myself wondering as we cautiously ventured deeper into the apparently-empty encampment. It just didn’t make any sense…unless…

 _“Servant right ahead!”_ Doctor Roman called out, and sure enough, a portly-looking man with an embellished longsword strode forth from the central tent, despite his girth moving with a sense of self-confidence before pausing a few dozen yards before us. Looking at the apparent commander, I saw that there was a casual expression on his face as he leaned against his sword. Nestled over his black hair was a chaplet of green oak leaves, woven to look like a crown. He wore red, though his exact clothing was hidden by what appeared to be a solid-gold breastplate, complete with a bulge to account for his gut. He looked at each of us with a calculating gaze before finally speaking after a long sigh, sounding completely bored as he did so.

“…So, you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! I wonder who this mysterious person is?!? Anyways, sorry if it feels choppy, but I hope it was good? Also, thanks to Boudica, Jacob has a closer idea to how he feels about Mordred. What did you guys think about that? I hope I did good, seeing as how I felt that I needed to push Jacob now a little closer to the whole relationship thing, but as I mentioned, it's my first time writing this, so please let me know if there is any advice/suggestion/pointers you think would be useful to me in this regard.
> 
> Also, that Fate/Apocrypha reference XD
> 
> Anyways, going to be another Servant battle next chapter, so who's psyched for that?!?
> 
> Now, for the question of the day: What's your favorite non-mobile video game series, and if you have one, what is your least favorite?
> 
> As always, thanks again to my wonderful commenters and my lovely readers, and thanks for sticking to this story! Really am still easily blown away by how popular this story has become, it seems, so thank you guys for taking the time to read it! Also as always, I eagerly await your feedback, comments, and whatnot. Also, potential one-shot requests are still open for discussion as a reminder. Anyways, hope you guys stay safe and warm, and see you in the next chapter in three to five days!


	37. Caesar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company face off against the enemy commander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Longer than normal chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy! See you in the end notes!

“…So, you’re here,” the enemy Servant said in a surprisingly bored expression. I didn’t lower my guard, however, not fooled by his overweight appearance. When it came to Servants, one of the worst things one could do, Master or Servant, is to dismiss a hostile one on just looks. “I was growing tired of waiting. Just how long did you intend to keep me waiting?” I blinked in surprise at his tone, and the others seemed to be just as equally caught off-guard by his mannerisms.

“Still though,” the Servant continued, looking at us now with a sparkle of excitement in his green eyes, a shade only a little darker than the ones of Nero, though still lighter than Mordred’s, “it looks like this will prove to have been worth a little boredom! Those beauties of yours—” he gestured at Nero, Mordred, and Mash. “Such beauties. Beautiful. Truly beautiful, each one of you. Your beauty is fitting for the world’s greatest treasure—Rome!”

Uh-oh…

“That’s it, your dead meat now!” Mordred roared besides me, activating her Mana Burst ability. Somehow, the soon-to-be brutalized speaker had guessed Mordred’s gender. Spies that had infiltrated the camp and reported on our arrival, no doubt, are responsible for this. Just as I had expected, the man’s implications had set off Mordred’s disgust at being referred to by her gender. I gripped her shoulder firmly, shaking my head slightly.

“Not yet,” I whispered, noticing out of the corner of my eye how the man reacted with a mere laugh at the ire being directed towards him by the Knight of Rebellion, before focusing on Nero. With a huff, my first Servant deactivated her ability, though she gripped the hilt of Clarent tightly. “Let’s just see what he has to say. Perhaps we can find out some useful information from him first,” I whispered, and Mordred reluctantly nodded in understanding just as our opponent continued speaking.

“Heir to our beloved Rome,” he said, pointing his sword lazily towards Nero, “What is your name?” The Emperor of Roses didn’t reply at first, looking to the side. The general tutted in disapproval. “Don’t fall silent. Even if it’s on the field of battle, be eloquent. Do you intend to fight without giving me your name? Is that the way of the current Roman Emperor” he asked the blonde Roman in a tone that could be described as being simultaneously chiding and mocking. Still Nero kept quiet, looking uncertain.

“Then why don’t you start us off? Who are you?” Ritsuka interjected warily. The man let out a brief bark of laughter.

“Oh-ho, there seems to be some fire in you, young man. Very well. You may call me Caesar, a reluctant member of the Saber class. As much as it is a bother for me, don’t underestimate my skills. “Now then, speak. Who are the ones who would force me to take up arms? What are your names?”

“Nero,” the Emperor of Roses finally spoke. “I am the fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius.” Her voice sounded firm, and her posture displaying her more typical self-confidence. “I will take you out, pretender to the throne!”

Caesar laughed loudly, nodding in approval. “I like you to announce yourself. Otherwise, it would all be so dull. But you’re not the only one whose name I demand to here. You, guest commanders! I thank you and your Servants for coming from a distant land. Tell me your names as well.

“I am Jacob Aronson. Forty-ninth Master Candidate of Chaldea,” I said, fighting down the instinct to draw my own sword. A Servant named Caesar, who was fighting alongside the Mad Emperor Caligula…though he hadn’t confirmed it, I felt that I knew who the Servant was.

“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” my fellow Master said next, a hesitant expression on his face. “Um…you’re kind of plump, aren’t you?” We all stared at the Japanese Master in a mixture of shock, horror, and disappointment. Mash shook her head forlornly, while I waged a mental way over whether I should face palm or deliver a light smack to the back of Ritsuka’s head. Deciding to do neither, at least for now, I instead look towards Caesar, preparing to deliver an apologetic statement on the behalf of my friend. After all, while this _is_ a fight to the death, there’s still no reason for keeping this at least somewhat civilized, in my opinion.

To my surprise however, the portly Saber was beaming at us, looking the complete opposite of offended. “Of course! Remember, Rome is the pinnacle of civilization, and that begins with gourmet food! Ergo, plumpness is power,” he declared proudly.

…Were all of the Roman emperors we were to encounter during our time here going to be eccentric in some manner?

“Take the fifth Emperor here,” Caesar continues speaking, gesturing at Neo with his empty hand. “She’s plump in all the right places. Although, my dear, I must admit that even your bosom is inferior to my woman, the Queen of the Desert and the Nile, but that’s fine,” the Father of the Roman Empire said, with what was a flirty wink.

“At least he isn’t lacking in self-confidence,” Ritsuka remarked dryly. I nodded numbly, my mind still processing the turn of events we were witnessing while behind us thousands of men were fighting and dying.

Nero’s face flushed crimson, and she looked away with a flustered smile, her sabaton/heel-clad feet fidgeting in place. “Umu, as befits the man who in life single-handedly subdued Gaul. You soften a woman’s heart as naturally as you breathe…” Nero said absently before shaking her head furiously, looking sternly at the unashamed Caesar, pointing her own sword at her predecessor. “But I am _not_ a woman like my mother! I am an emperor _and_ a young maiden!”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Mordred muttered softly, and I grunted in response. Eh, it’s Nero, enough said.

“Oddly-rotund man, your words fail to strike a true chord in my heart!”

“Is that so…?” Caesar clicked his tongue in disappointment.

 _“Ahem,”_ Doctor Roman, who had been listening to this…performance…silently finally jumped in with a polite cough. _“Can we get down to business?”_ He asked somewhat awkwardly, though I nodded eagerly.

“Actually, one moment, Doctor,” Mash said, stepping forward and looking at the ‘oddly-rotund man’. “I wish to ask you something, about the United Empire and the Holy Grail.” Caesar sighed, gesturing lazily at Ritsuka.

“Oh? Then, um, the what’s-your-name over there…”

“Ritsuka,” the aforementioned magus interjected with a weary sigh of his own.

“I’m afraid I shan’t answer any more questions. It is a pain, but you are Servants, and therefore my enemies that I must crush,” Caesar sighed dramatically once more, a sound I was growing incredibly weary of, as he raised his sword in a saluting manner. “Let me reward you all for coming this far. I will let you witness the power of my golden sword, Crocea Mors.”

“Don’t say that!” Nero shouted as she stomped one foot down furiously. “Gold is my color! _MINE_! The one who built the Golden Theater!”

“That’s the spirit,” the enemy Saber said with a chuckle. “Servants, and you, young Demi-Servant, protect her well. Fight well, and _perhaps_ I will tell you where to find the item you seek. Now then, come forth. The die has been cast once more!”

Nero shot forward, nearly as fast as Mordred… _nearly_. My breath got caught in the back of my throat, eyes widening. Shit, she doesn’t realize either who she is fighting, nor that he is a Servant, and therefore in an entirely different league, fat though he may be!

Then Emperor of Roses lashed out with her sword, the metal becoming almost a blur of red. With a heft grunt, the stout Servant slammed his sword into hers, the action appearing almost clumsy. Is it a feint, perhaps? Or has the Saber been summoned improperly, or something along the lines of that?

Regardless of which one was the answer, either option left me feeling on edge. I frantically turn to look at my own Saber, seeing out of the corner of my eye Ritsuka doing the same for Mash.

“Mordred!” I shouted hoarsely. The shorter blonde nodded, leaping forward. I suspected that, much like Caster Chulainn and Singularity F, fixing this distortion of the timeline hinged on Nero’s survival until we get the Grail. Not an easy task considering how reckless the petite yet busty blonde seemed to behave.

As Nero and Caesar exchanged some more blows in rapid succession, each one sending showers of sparks into the air, Mordred and Mash closed the distance. I saw Caesar’s face scrunch up in distaste, and he tried to duck and dodge the sword and shield being swung at him, ducking under the former, but getting rammed by the latter. The enemy Servant doesn’t fall, however, but merely leaps backwards, though he isn’t given a moment’s rest. Nero jumped towards him, swinging her sword down, and using the momentum of her fall to add extra strength to her attack.

At the last moment Caesar blocked the attack with his own sword, falling briefly to one knee before leaning forward slightly, pushing Nero backwards, and upsetting her guard. Grinning slightly, the rotund man charged forward, intent on impaling the blonde with his own sword.

“Nero!” I called out as Mordred growled loudly under her helmet. The Knight of Rebellion swung her sword at him, only for the Saber to block Clarent, the swords locked against one another as Mordred tried to apply more force to break through the deadlock, while Nero stepped backwards, panting slightly.

“Now!” Ritsuka suddenly shouted, startling me. Not nearly as much as the sudden appearance of an arrow slamming into the enemy Saber’s shoulder, however, as he stumbled backwards with a startled yet furious cry of alarm. Ritsuka must have been in communication with Chiron, because only a Servant could fire an arrow like that from seemingly nowhere. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a mortal wound that the Greek Archer had dealt to the former Roman dictator.

Damn it! So close, and yet so far…

“Tch! What a bother!” Caesar growled, stepping back and raising his sword defensively, ready to react to another arrow, now that he knew to be wary of this latest threat against him. Our own Servants, as well as Nero, stepped back, and an uneasy lull replaced the earlier fighting.

“Hmm, you certainly are strong,” Caesar said, wincing slightly as he yanked Chiron’s arrow from out of his shoulder. “Though, this is a bit ridiculous,” he added with a grumble, watching us warily. “Who would even place a fine general like me on the front lines in the first place. Can’t call this ‘best man for the job’ type nonsense.” As Roman’s vision of Marie crumbled back at La Charité, so was mine of Caesar. This was the man that conquered the various Celtic tribes of Gaul? The man who led the initial invasion and conquest of Britannia? Who had installed himself as the Dictator of Rome, and whose death had been the death blow to the flagging Roman Republic?

To his credit, though, he did have more than a decent amount of skill with his weapon, and the strength to utilize it fully, even if Clarent was in my opinion a far more devastating sword. Therefore, it was unsurprising for Mash to shoot the pudgy man an incredulous look over her shield.

“Welding such a devastating sword,” Mash said in disbelief. “How can you even say that?”

“I thought that a pretender such as yourself would be a fake. Instead, you’re proving to be a monster,” an equally-stunned Nero admitted. The only one who didn’t understand either who he really was, or just how much power a Servant had, especially, it seems, the Saber class. Caesar tutted in disappointment, pointing Crocea Mors, ‘Yellow Death’, towards his fellow emperor.

“No, you’re quite wrong about that, Nero Claudius. I’m still the emperor, though no such title existed in my time. In response to your beauty and courage, I shall tell you my full name. Listen well, for I tell no lie. I am Caesar. Gaius Julius Caesar,” he said with a smug smile, which only grew as a horrified expression appeared on the elegant features of Nero.

“Wh-What? That’s…that’s the name of the man who had adopted Augustus, the first emperor…but…” Nero stared hard, her face screwed up slightly in anguish as she tried to process this ground-shaking revelation. No, for her, this had to be world-shattering. “You’re dead,” Nero finally said weakly. “How can this be?”

“I’ve heard word that you have already encountered Caligula. If that is true, then you should already know,” Caesar replied dismissively. “We’re ‘genuine’, myself and…him,” he added, sounding disgusted at the mention of the Berserker. Nero snarled at him. “Now, now, do try to relax. You are beautiful, truly beautiful. Your beauty can match almost any other treasure in the world. You, Demi-Servant, you too are beautiful. Very nice indeed,” he mused, his eyes focusing uncomfortably long on Mash’s chest.

I hissed angrily as Mash gasped in discomfort, hiding herself behind her shield, and away from the Saber’s hungry gaze. Beside her, Mordred’s body tensed, and I could feel her rage growing stronger. Despite why it was happening, it felt nice to see that Mordred was at least somewhat protective of the young girl, though perhaps it was also the blonde following the knightly codes she had strived to maintain until the fall of Camelot.

“I admire your courage, strength, and beauty. Therefore, I shall tell you one thing. You asked for the location of the Holy Grail, yes? The Grail is located in a castle at the heart of the United Empire’s capital. More precisely, in the hands of our Court Mage,” Caesar revealed, once more ignoring the reaction to his words.

“A Mage?” I said softly.

“Can you tell us their name, at least?” Ritsuka said. Caesar shook his head, and I noticed that the shoulder wound and the other minor cuts and scrapes he had acquired from the trio had vanished.

“I can’t. Your rewards ends there, for I have no reason to tell you more. Now, Emperor Nero, your hardship is not something I wish for, but I have my own reasons to fight. I want the Grail for myself, for I have a wish, in order to fulfill a promise I had made long ago. Therefore, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to be serious.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound sinister,” Amadeus said sarcastically from behind.

“It’s been a while, so I needed exercise. The poor golden sword also needs occasional use,” Caesar remarked before suddenly being enveloped in a bright white light.

 _“His magical energy level is rising? No, he really must have been holding back, and is now unleashing it! Give him everything you got!”_ Doctor Roman reported as the light faded away. The same Saber stood opposite us, but yet he wasn’t quite. His leafy crown had been replaced by one of gold. His left arm had somehow been enveloped in marble, resulting in an oversized appendage.

“I came, I saw. Now, I conquer!”

“Gah…for Rome!” Nero roared in return, charging froward once more before any of us could stop her, as her predecessor did the same thing.

“Tch, Amadeus!” I said rapidly, spinning around on my heels to stare at the composer. “Is there anything you can do? Maybe deafen him?” I asked. The Caster reluctantly shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. Unless, that is, you desire to have our comrades also be affected,” he replied. I wanted to curse, but didn’t. It’s not his fault.

“Understood. Can you at least keep an eye out for either an opportunity to target him with your Noble Phantasm, or ensure that no one hostile to us is sneaking up?” I requested, as the sounds of steel slamming against steel filled the air behind me once more.

“With pleasure.”

Well, that’ll have to be enough for now. I look back to see Nero skidding backwards, her metal heels kicking up a cloud of dust as Caesar retracted his stone-covered arm, his fingers curled into a fist. Suddenly, they open up, and he reaches forward, grabbing the shaft of Chiron’s second arrow mid-flight.

“How does that modern phrase go? ‘Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me’?” Caesar shouted mockingly, snapping the arrow shaft while Mash charged at him from the side. Laughing happily, the Saber moved with surprising grace, showing that his earlier clumsiness was indeed a ploy as he first sidestepped the shield charge, and then stepped into Mash’s guard.

Mash released a startled yep as the pommel of Crocea Mors slammed into her exposed midriff, and I could see a thin stream of spittle flying from her lips as she stumbled backwards. Caesar didn’t give the Demi-Servant a chance to recover, however. He lunged forward, this time aiming the tip of his longsword at Mash’s exposed and unprotected naval, while Ritsuka called out her name in desperate fear. Mordred was trying to slam herself into him, but it didn’t look like she would make it in time.

Thankfully, there was someone else who did.

Nero’s lightning bolt-shaped blade deflected Caesar’s thrust at the last second, her red and white clothes lightly stained with dirt and dust, but a determined fire burning in her eyes.

“I don’t think so,” she hissed, eliciting a laugh from the Conqueror of Gaul. As Nero prepared a fresh barrage of attacks, however, Caesar somehow managed to kick her in the midriff, sending her skidding backwards once more, though Mordred quickly took her place, exchanging her ferocious and powerful strikes against Caesar’s more elegant and composed parries and counterstrikes.

Swiftly, recovering, Nero was about to throw herself into the fray for the thrice time when I gripped her shoulder, heedless of any possible risks from boldly grasping an emperor. “Your Majesty, I beg you to please stay back. I mean no insult, but this foe is beyond you, as skilled you are. Please, allow your viceroy and I deal with him,” I said rapidly and pleadingly.

For a moment, I feared my words would fall on deaf ears as the blonde diva (for a lack of better words) glared ferociously at me, but I held my ground. I had faced off against a _dragon_ , so it would be hard to be cowed by anything less, I felt. Thankfully, the intensity her green orbs held dimmed slightly, and her body relaxed.

“Very well, Praetor. I expect nothing less than victory, though,” she added warningly. I idly nodded my head, focusing once more on Mordred as she continued dueling with her fellow Saber. Mash was out of the fight, still recovering from being stunned, while neither Amadeus nor Chiron were able to launch any of their ranged attacks without possibly injuring their teammate, leaving Mordred on her own.

However, I had faith in both her combat prowess and in the plucky Saber herself.

Said Servant appeared to be enjoying herself, shouting out at times, laughing at others, as a furious display of swordsman ship was displayed by both combatants. A mighty swing of Clarent that would have cleaved the pudgy Roman in half was deflected to the side by Crocea Mors. A follow-up thrust of the thinner sword was in turn halted by the flat of Mordred’s oversized blade, gripped horizontally before the knight in one hand while the other swung in, backhanding Caesar.

“Gah!” The Saber sputtered, before slamming his marble-clad hand into Mordred’s stomach in retaliation, though Mordred seemed to ignore the powerful strike, and I winced for her. I made a mental note to check on the Knight of Rebellion’s injuries when we return to camp, once more refusing to accept the remote possibility of her being defeated.

The two Sabers finally took a few steps back from one another, eyeing the other warily as the rest of us watched on, bodies tense.

“Time to finish this,” Caesar rumbled, and I could hear Mordred’s dismissive scoff.

“Couldn’t agree more!” She roared, before suddenly activating her Mana Burst ability once more, zipping forward and catching Caesar off-guard as she thrusted her sword forward with all her might and a savage battle cry.

The familiar sound of metal being torn asunder filled the air, along with a muffled cry of shock from Caesar as Mordred twisted the hilt of Clarent slightly, widening the wound she had inflicted by impaling the dangerous Saber. To his credit, the Servant raised his sword overhead, but before he could strike, Mordred pushed him backwards with a strong kick that also served as a means of forcing Clarent out of his large gut, revealing the massive, gaping hole.

“Mm, mmm…” Nero hummed nervously, looking over the shoulders of Mordred and Mash. “Did we…get him?”

 _“Yes, I can detect that his readings are getting weaker. You’ve won. Congratulations,”_ Doctor Roman explained in a matter-of-fact manner, though more for Nero’s benefit than for us. After all, with the gaping wound courtesy of Clarent still weeping blood, it would be pretty difficult for a Servant to recover, especially without any Command Seals being used. Mordred scoffed, and flicked Clarent to the side, walking away defiantly from the mortally wounded Saber, while Mash cautiously approached the rotund man.

“Your sword was very powerful, but as long as I have Ritsuka Senpai’s instructions, I can block it,” she addressed Caesar in an apologetic manner. Polite as ever, even to a blatant womanizer. Caesar merely chuckled weakly, Crocea Mors disappearing in a cloud of golden light.

“Hmm…being taken out by such beautiful women isn’t so bad. Much more preferable than a horde of envious men with daggers,” he said before pausing, a look of disgust on his face, though it seemed to have not been aimed towards us, surprisingly. “It’s not feasible for me to act like a mere soldier, anyway. Seriously, I was helpless against _his_ weirdness.”

“His—?” Nero asked, as I looked at the dying Servant with an arched eyebrow. Caesar nodded glumly, his massive stone hand starting to dissolve next, leaving the defeated Saber looking as he was when we first ran into him, with the addition of a torn-open breastplate, that is.

“That’s right, the true emperor of this era. He is surely waiting for your arrival in the capital. While I’m not exactly an emperor, I can assure you that none of the past ‘emperors’ can stand up against him. When you see that person’s name and face, I wonder how’ll you react?” He mused, sounding a bit cruel.

“Why wonder when you could tell us know?” I said, though not expecting the idea to be considered by the man. Regardless, his remaining time was nearly at an end, his form growing more transparent as a golden light began gleaming dully.

“Now where is the fun in that?” Caesar retorted with a knowing smirk as his body continued to dissolve. The last thing we saw was that very smirk.

“He’s gone…” Nero said, sounding confused once more. “What’s this…Is this some sort of magecraft…or…” Ah, what to say?

“He’s left this world,” I said vaguely. While it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. However, the blonde already had a lost expression on her features, and I had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn’t handle the full revelation of Servants very well. Her eyes locked on me, a fire kindling in them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, demanded, really. Thankfully, Mash took a step forward, and Nero shifted her gaze to the Demi-Servant.

“What Jacob Senpai means is, that Servant is gone from this world. A Servant disappears when facing death, their temporary body dissipating while their experience is sent back to the Throne of Heroes,” Mash paused, seeing that she hadn’t been able to provide clarity to the Emperor of Roses, either. “If you wish, we can discuss this back at the camp?” She offered.

“Umu, that is a fine suggestion. Come, let’s share the good news with the others,” Nero said, her composure restored as she strutted towards the entrance. The sounds of fighting, muted as they had been during our battle against Caesar, had truly faded away, with cries of victory and relief replacing them. So, the battle outside had concluded just as victoriously for our own side, it seems, for now soldiers wearing the markings of the United Empire were rushing towards us. Overhead, I could see a half dozen vultures already circling over the battlefield, as we turned back towards our own camp in relative silence.

Still, as I followed her along with the others, my mind was racing. Just who exactly was the person who apparently shared control over the Holy Grail?

* * *

A muscular hand slammed into the arm of the gilded throne. The two other occupants stared impassively at a tall, muscular man with bronze-colored skin. He had watched the scene of his subordinate’s duel thanks to his Master’s use of familiars. “So,” he finally said, keeping his rumbling voice level despite his earlier outburst of frustration, “Caesar was defeated.”

Lev Lainur stepped forward, his head bowed slightly. As outlandish a name he bore, and as garish as he found the ‘man’s’ outfit to be, he had proven quite useful. “Yes, it seems that way,” he responded with a smooth, almost oily tone. “I only used him because he had a wish for the Grail. This shouldn’t cause many issues, however,” he added reassuringly. Not that he needed to hear such trivial matters from Lev. “I can summon as many new Servants as I want. If there’s an issue, however, it’s this foolish Berserker,” Lev scoffed, gesturing dismissively at one of the other occupants, who growled softly at his insulter. “Isn’t it obvious that Berserkers are fool?” Lev commented, unaffected by Caligula’s anger.

“Silence, Caligula,” the leader of the United Empires commanded his admittedly-troublesome subordinate, and the golden-armored Berserker reluctantly did so. He could understand his fellow Servant’s frustration, but it was pointless. Roma demanded sacrifices to be made, even from him, and so he would submit to the wishes of the mage present.

“I was surprised he would defy my orders. Is blood thicker than water? What a joke,” Lev said, continuing his disparaging remarks.

“For my destiny…My beloved niece Nero…is irrelevant,” Caligula responded in his forced, halting manner of speech. “Beautiful child…Nero, you will be loved, loved, so loved…Therefore…in my destiny…”

Lev rolled his eyes, scoffing dismissively. The true emperor of Rome chaffed at Lev’s lack of respect towards his fellow emperor, but the bronze-skinned man held his tongue. Whether he liked it or not, he had agreed to work with the mage when he was summoned.

“I regret not having any Command Spells, though I do have a different spell of sorts ready for you. You _will_ kill your niece with your own hands. Then, drowning in regret, you will destroy everything else in this era,” the purple-haired man said, though he looked more demonic than human as he smiled viciously at the fuming Caligula. He then sighed dramatically, before resuming his little ‘speech’.

“That said, I highly doubt that you have enough intellect to feel regret. My, my, Servants truly are inconvenient beings. No matter how ‘legendary’ you are, or how much superhuman strength you possess, in the end you are little more than mere familiars. You all have the power to change the world at will, yet that freedom is not allowed. How ironic. Wouldn’t you agree?” Lev asked the seated Servant.

He had heard enough from Lev. “Be careful what you say,” he said, having settled on a simple warning. His ‘Master’ Lev may be, but he, Romulus, wouldn’t take any insults, veiled or direct, in silence. To insult him was to insult Roma, after all.

And to insult Roma was for the one responsible to forfeit their lives.

“Oh, excuse me,” Lev said in an apologetic tone dripping with insincerity. “Come to think of it, you are a Servant, too. That’s why you too must obey me. If there is anything remotely close to that thing you call destiny, I am it. We have orders from our king, and now it is time to replenish our losses, and then finish incinerating this blasted era,” Lev said, waving a hand and chanting words unfamiliar to the Lancer, before a flash of light engulfed the room, and the Founder of Rome sensed the presence of another Servant even as the light faded away.

Another bronze-skinned man was now standing before both he and Lev, bare-chested, and with Greek arms and armors, with a crest made out of fire. The newcomer bent down to one knee, bowing his head at his Master’s feet in submission.

“…Servant, Lancer. True Name, Leonidas. I will serve you from here on,” he said in a brusque manner, refusing to mince words. Lev laughed wickedly. “Oh, the Hero of Thermopylae. Not bad, not bad at all. Use your full powers to eliminate Nero Claudius…”

As Romulus tuned out the words of the eccentric figure, he felt a faint twinge of pity for his fellow emperor, the one he must kill. But it must be done, for the glory of Roma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Did you guys enjoy the fight scene? Sorry if the fight is short compared to the dialogue, but hopefully it is still a worthy Servant fight :) I had forgotten just how much of a playboy Caesar was in the game, so that made Mordred's reactions to some of his comments enjoyable to write. Also, sorry if that last scene felt off, but I wanted to try covering Romulus's perspective. Did I pull it off at least decently?
> 
> Sorry for taking an extra day. Things have been nerve-racking here in America since Tuesday, though now that is looking like things will be easing up in that regard, thank goodness. Still, I will be keeping in the three to five day update range, it just might be pushing more towards the latter for the next few weeks as oppose to the former. Also, I just realized that we're about halfway done with this Singularity it seems. Aside from the reptivie fights, the game really didn't seem to put much effort into it. Oh well, good thing this is one of the least popular portions of the plot, right?
> 
> Now, for the question of the day: Seeing as how today we get to pick a free Four-Star Servant, who did you guys pick/planning on picking? Mine is Saber Alter.
> 
> As always, thank you guys and gals for taking the time to read, leave comments and kudos, and other non-verbal forms of feedback. Really does make my day in the dullness caused by Covid-19, so thanks once again. I eagerly await y'alls comments, thoughts, and daily question answers, and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Have a wonderful evening, and see you in the next chapter!


	38. A Divine Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concerns about Nero are raised, a new kind of foe is encountered, and Jacob finds himself being dragged off onto a side quest, and has his own version of 'National Lampoon's Vacation'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! Hope you guys and gals enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

It must have been around late afternoon when we, the victors, finally returned to the shelter of our camp. Her soldiers chanting her name, and mounted on her horse once more, Nero guided her mount towards the center of the camp, her eyes shining excitedly as she soaked in the praise.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around to see Boudica looking at Ritsuka, Mash and myself. Out Servants began spreading out, breaking up to go to various places around the camp either as small groups like the three French Servants and the musical composer, or on their own like Chulainn and Sasaki.

“Jacob, Mash, Ritsuka, may I speak to the three of you in private?” Boudica asked, a serious glint in her eyes instead of her more mirthful look. We all nodded, and the Rider gestured at us to follow her, and we do so. Further away from the main crowd of soldiers and the occasional Servant, Boudica took a deep breath.

“There’s something I’m worried about. Something about Nero,” the former queen began saying. “It happened right after you all arrived. Did any of you notice, how she spaced out?”

“I take it that isn’t an uncommon occurrence?” I asked, and Boudica nodded with a sigh.

“Yes, she occasionally spaces out. Nero has been like that ever since the United Empire showed up. It might just be me, but whenever I’ve been around her during one of those moments, I feel a slight trace of magical energy. I know that I shouldn’t seeing as how she’s a human from this era, and not a mage like you or Ritsuka. Still, I definitely feel it.”

“Have you confronted her over this?” Ritsuka inquired, and Boudica released another weary sigh.

“Yes, I have asked her about it, but she doesn’t feel it at all. At least, so she claims. Can you guys keep an eye out? I mean, about her?” Boudica asked, smiling sheepishly with a soft blush, before regaining her composure. “While it hasn’t been made official yet, Nero told me that she is appointing Spartacus and I as the new governors of Gaul. That means that we’ll have to stay here, protecting this place. That means I can’t keep any eye on her myself…” she trailed off, sounding a bit awkward.

“Understood,” Mash said quickly, rescuing the Rider from having to finish that sentence. “You’re…worried about Nero, aren’t you?” She asked cautiously, her ‘big sister’ suddenly scoffing at the suggestion.

“I wouldn’t worry about her at all!” She said rather aggressively. “It’s not something I want to do personally, and thankfully now I won’t have too. Sadly, for better or worse, Nero’s now the symbol of this land. If something happens to her—”

“The war would be lost, and with it, humanity,” I guessed, and Boudica nodded her head sharply.

“Correct. I don’t want to lose another war. That’s the only reason I care about her.”

“…Right,” Mash said meekly, having been intimidated by the surprisingly-aggressive aura her earlier remark had caused the Rider to create around us.

“Well then, that’s that,” Boudica said with a smile, instantly dispelling the aforementioned tension. “Mash, we have time before you leave, correct?’

“U-Um—” Mash stuttered, confused both by Boudica’s sudden mood shift and her words.

“Before you leave,” the Rider said excitedly, hooking an arm around the Demi-Servant’s and pulling Mash close to her, trapping the Shielder. “I will teach you the best of Britannia cuisine! I’d be happy if my new little sister learned it, and then made it her specialty!” Boudica gushed excitedly.

I covered my mouth slightly with my left hand, trying to muffle the soft giggles threatening to erupt from my lips as Mash tried to pry herself free.

“N-No, that’s—”

“You’re so cute, you should start training to be a bride!” Well, that escalated quickly. Ritsuka seemed to have felt the same, his jaw hanging open slightly, and his eyes bulging out like dinner plates as the redhead looked at him from the corner of her eye slyly. Mash was having the worst of it however, having gone stiff like a log while her cheeks exploded into a bright red. “Oh, geeze, so cute! Come here!” Boudica crooned, pulling Mash against her. Once again, Mash began having issues with a certain anatomical feature of the energetic and motherly Servant trapping her.

“W-Wah! Again—” She gasped, trying to tilt her head back slightly. “Your breasts—”

“There, there,” Boudica said, apparently ignoring Mash getting, well, mashed according to Ritsuka last time. “Good girl, good girl,” she crooned. “You stay cheerful forever. Don’t get too hurt, and don’t be too reckless. You really are an adorable girl.”

Somehow, Mash’s blush managed to get even brighter in color.

“Y-Yes, well, I-I am Senpai’s…um...” Oh-ho, what’s this? Still, it was getting a bit awkward for me, and as the sun began its final descent to signal the arrival of nightfall, I turned to Ritsuka.

“I’m going to go check on Mordred. I wanna see if she took any serious damage from that marble-coated punch from Caesar,” I said, and Ritsuka nodded dumbly, unable to look away from the spectacle that Mash and Boudica were quickly becoming. “Good luck with explaining to Nero the whole thing about Servants, too,” I said cheekily as I walked off. I could hear Ritsuka suddenly shouting my name as he realizes that I had thrown him to the wolves (or should it be roses in this case?), and I started looking for the Saber.

* * *

I find her sitting at the edge of the crowd, watching with a bored expression, having dismissed her helmet. Her visage brightens slightly at seeing me, no doubt expecting me to become a source of entertainment for her somehow. I made my way over to her, staring intently at her before speaking.

“Did Caesar managed to break anything?” I asked Mordred softly, ensuring that only she would hear the words. I didn’t want to cause a scene or something while the others celebrated our victory. Mordred gave her reply with a lazy shrug of her shoulders.

“I think he cracked a rib or two with that bunch, but it’s nothing that the pipsqueak needs to use her Noble Phantasm to fix,” she responded in a casual tone. I furrowed my brow slightly in displeasure at her words. Yes, she is a Heroic Spirit, meaning that she has an unmatchable level of endurance compared to me, but that doesn’t mean I would be fine with letting the matter rest.

“While that may be the case, I can give you some mana to speed up the healing process. I know, I know, you’re no push over when it comes to pain and all, but there’s no point in staying in discomfort when it’s not needed, don’t you agree?” I asked. The blonde Saber chewed on the corner of her lip for a few seconds, remaining silent before sighing.

“Eh, I guess you have a point. Better not be thinking of doing something creepy,” she warned, and my cheeks flushed slightly as I remembered Medea’s lesson she had given Ritsuka and I after Orléans on the various methods of performing mana transfers to Servants. Or rather, I was blushing at a combination of remembering one method in particular that I still felt had to be just a joke and Medea’s laughter at the reactions of Ritsuka and I.

“Wow, glad to think so highly of me,” I drawled, causing the Knight of Rebellion to snicker in amusement at my flat tone. “Just the basic method of pushing mana towards you, using the connection we have as Master and Servant,” I added, and Mordred relaxed slightly.

“Good call. Welp, no point in delaying. Let’s get this over with, Mas-Jacob,” Mordred correct when I shoot her another raised eyebrow. Seems she was still getting used to that request of mine. Eh, progress is progress, at the end of the day. I closed my eyes and activated my Magic Circuits, and nervously imagined pushing some of the magical energy coursing through them towards Mordred. Not too much to leave me drained, but enough to ensure that come morning, the blonde knight would be fully healed.

“Ah, that’s better,” Mordred said as I deactivated my Magic Circuits less than a minute later. I felt a little shaky, but that is probably more to do with my body still adjusting to using magecraft on a more consistent basis in the past few weeks compared to most of my childhood.

“Well, it would be concerning if it was worst,” I quipped, shooting my partner a lopsided grin that had Mordred rolling her eyes slightly at me in what I have now come to realize was mock exasperation. When we had first met, I would have worried about having somehow offended the prideful Servant, but now, I found myself starting to pick up on some of her mannerisms.

Not enough to make me some sort of expert at understanding the blonde, but enough still to make for a pleasant relationship. “So, what did you think of that guy, Caesar? Second time I’ve seen you fighting against a fellow Saber, after all,” I said, staring into her emerald eyes curiously.

Mordred just shrugged lazily. “Eh, it was a good fight. He fought better than I’d have expected for someone of his appearance, but at least it wasn’t a boring fight. Of course, in the end, not even he could stand against me,” she added cockily, and I had to stifle my laugh. Honestly, the times after a fight against a Servant where Mordred doesn’t boast of her skills will be a time most concerning to me over her.

“Indeed,” I said instead, smiling warmly at her as the scent of Boudica’s cooking wafted towards us. “Seems like dinner is ready. Let’s grab some before the others eat it all and leave nothing for us,” I said with a soft laugh. Mordred joined in, her voice sounding almost musical when she was giving a soft laugh as opposed to her louder and more boisterous laughter one usually would hear from her.

Tonight would be a time to relax, and come morning, we would head back for Rome, to plan our next move.

* * *

Dawn and morning came and went with very little fanfare. Nero gave one of her speeches before departing, as well as instructing Boudica and Spartacus to make sure that Gaul was fully under Rome’s control once more in the meantime, just as Boudica had said last night, and then we left.

That wasn’t to say that all was well, however, as we continued our march back to Rome. Boudica’s warning from the previous evening, and her follow-up request, were still on my mind as I looked up at the source of unease, at least for the moment.

“Your Majesty,” I suddenly said, staring intently at disturbingly-silent Emperor of Roses. We had been on the march for less than an hour, with only her escort of the Praetorian Guard surrounding us. “What’s on your mind?” I asked, looking up at the mounted blonde. She hummed to herself softly, though the tune sounded rather off-key, if Amadeus’s slight grimace was any indication.

“Did you hear what those men outside of the camp said this morning, as well as that traveler and fisherman we passed not that long ago? That ‘an ancient god has appeared’. Could it be true?” She asked. I looked at Mash. In these matters, she and Doctor Roman were the most reliable in coming up with either soldi answers at best, or realistic theories at worst.

“ _I wonder,”_ Roman said in a thoughtful tone. “ _It’s certainly an interesting phrase. If they said ‘ancient god’, could it be from the Age of the Gods?”_

“To be more precise, four different people have all said the same thing, even though they would normally have been completely different professions. A cobbler, a traveler, a fisherman, and a farmer. They would have nothing to gain from trying to deceive us,” Mash added. I nodded in agreement.

“’An ancient god appeared on an island off the coast, in the Mediterranean’,” I said, repeating the information we had been told. “It feels too specific to just be the work of idle minds.”

“It’s not unusual to hear such rumors, especially from a fisherman. Still, Gaul has both a naval port loyal to my faction, and also has a part facing the sea. Normally, I would have dismissed such talk, but after hearing it over and over, I confess that I am now most intrigued. It is a pity though that we must return to Rome, however,” Nero said with a longing sigh.

“ _Hmmm, it is intriguing, huh?”_ Roman interjected. _“Jacob, Ritsuka, what do you guys think?”_

“Well, it’s not like this is the first unusual thing we have encountered recently,” Ritsuka said cautiously. I grunted in agreement as memories of zombies, beast-men, and dragons flashed by.

“It could do with the Holy Grail, too,” I added. Mash looked at us with uncertainty.

“Well…I’m not so sure about that. Caesar said their ‘Court Mage was in possession of it,” she countered softly. A good point, but not necessarily valid. After all, back in France, Gilles had his hands on the Grail there, and yet he wasn’t able to control everything that was summoned. Perhaps it was the Grail reacting once again in an attempt to preserve all?

 _“We can’t tell if it’s Lev or not, but whoever it is, perhaps he has moved into the Mediterranean?”_ Roman suggested. _“Whoever has the Grail could reasonably claim therefore to be a god. An island where a god lives, huh,”_ the ginger man mused aloud. _“Ah, that sounds so romantic! An ancient god in the First Century! The supposedly-gone Divine Spirits of the past returning to the land once more!”_

“You were up late on that website you’re always talking about last night, weren’t you?” I said with a soft sigh, cupping my face as I shook my head in mild amusement. The acting-director started to splutter, but Mash indirectly cam to his aid.

“A question, Doctor. Is the materialization of Divine Spirits really possible?”

 _‘it’s difficult. So much so that it’s nigh impossible. At least, if one was using Chaldea’s system,”_ Roman replied, and Ritsuka and I shared a frown.

“Divine Spirit? Not a Heroic Spirit?” Rits asked.

“Yes. It is different than a Heroic Spirit,” Mash began to say/lecture. “It is said to be a higher being. Divine beings are mentioned in many legends of this world. Sometimes as a natural phenomenon, or symbols of authority,” the Demi-Servant said.

 _“They are what you guys may call God, or gods. Just think of Divine Spirits as a term to define them. They’re already gone from the face of the Earth. Perhaps they never existed in the first place. Sadly, it’s hard to understand magecraft developed after Anno Domini, the birth of Christ. Not even the brightest minds at the Clock Tower can agree on this, especially since we are unable to observe them in our own time. Ahaha, but I’ve gone on a tangent here,”_ Doctor Roman said with a sheepish laugh. _“To answer the question of whether or not a Divine Spirit can materialize as a Servant, the answer is quite simple: They can’t. Even if ‘they’ were inclined to do so, even if technology reached the realms of True Magic, it’s disadvantageous, though not impossible,”_ he added, though I found myself feeling quite confused.

“So, just to make sure, there isn’t actually a god out there?” I asked bluntly.

_“Correct. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that something powerful is out there.”_

“Bah, this is pointless,” Nero finally said with a frustrated huff. “Umu, if it’s on our minds so much, fine! Like I said, we are near a friendly port, where we can board a ship to verify this report,” she said. Before we could talk any more on this topic, however, the captain of Nero’s personal guard came rushing back, having lead a small scouting party ahead of us. He looked worried, his gladius drawn, and a long scratch down his right bicep that was weeping blood.

“Your Majesty! The head of the column is being assaulted by unknown monsters!” He said, saluting hastily, panic in his voice. “We can’t stop them!”

“ _I am detecting traces of magical energy. It could be a monster spawned by the Grail,”_ Roman reported, sounding embarrassed. It seems that the discussion distracted him from checking on any readings around us, and therefore he was trying to make up for that slip up.

“Let’s go, Senpai!” Mash urged Ritsuka.

“Let’s quickly deal with it,” my fellow master said in agreement.

“Yes, Master. Commencing battle!” Mash said in her stern manner, summoning her over-sized shield as more of Nero’s soldiers came running towards us, each looking injured and panic.

The temperature started to feel like it was dropping just then, and for a second, I could have sworn that I was able to see the vaguest hints of our breaths.

“What devilry is this?” Jeanne muttered softly, and I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly. It was barely past midday during the summer, on a cloudless day, and yet it almost felt like the outside of Chaldea! Just what was responsible for this? Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to find out, as I gasped in shock at the sight of a half-dozen figures I had never seen before.

Silently, their silverly translucent shrouds fluttered silently on a non-existent breeze. Their bony fingers curled slightly, extended partially forwards, as if to embrace one of us in a life-crushing hug. Each figure’s face was an ethereal skull, staring at us with what we could clearly feel to be malicious intent, and I felt a trace of dread beginning to invade my body as the ghosts (for what other than some type of spirit could these malevolent things be?) began floating towards us.

“Wraiths! Master, Jacob Senpai, stay back! Don’t let them touch you! Their claws can drain the life out a victim!” Mash called out, positioning her shield and her body in front of me. To her right, Jeanne did the same, spinning her flagstaff while Mordred stood to the Demi-Servant’s left, right before me. However, one of the other Servants, the quieter ones, spoke up in her soft tone.

“Master, allow me to deal with these things.”

Moving in front of us, Medea started levitating in the air slightly, her staff appearing in one hand while she held an open palm towards one of the ghosts, and the hair stood up. “Shall we begin?” The Caster asked mockingly, though the ghosts neither paused nor hesitated.

Speaking in her native tongue, a dialect of ancient Greek that I had no hope of learning anytime soon sadly, one of the half-dozen spirits was encased in a circle of energy, paralyzing it, and the Witch of Betrayal floated even higher into the air, throwing the tails of her cloak up, and several small circles of pinkish energy appeared on either side, before beams of magical energy of a similar color shot out and forth, striking the trapped wraith dead-center.

I had to squint my eyes, but even then I was unable to witness the demise of the wraith, for when the light faded only a faint whisp of smoke drifting away on the wind was all that was left. The five remaining spirits almost seemed to have recoiled, while a ragged cheer arose form behind as Nero’s followers shook off the terror of this new kind of enemy.

“Hmph, time for them to experience a final symphony,” Amadeus added, the usually passive Caster raising his own implement to shoot off a ball of magical energy at the leftmost wraith. While far less dramatic as Medea’s opening attack, it was no less successful in evaporating another foe.

Still unnervingly silent, the remaining four wraiths began floating forward, arms outstretching further as they tried to close the gap between them and the two Casters that had dealt so easily with. Fortunately for us, they were few in number, and despite being theoretically outnumbered two-to-one, our two Casters each eliminated another two in rapid succession.

I know that this is far from the first time I’ve had this thought, but seeing a Servant fighting against those less powerful than another Servant was quite terrifying to behold. Especially when one realized just how much of a power gap there is between them and you.

“That was the last one,” Mash reports as Medea and Amadeus both returned to their earlier positions, and everyone began relaxing slightly. Nero nodded and turned to her soldiers, instructing them to take a five minute break and deal with the wounded while I listened to Doctor Roman.

 _“How awful,”_ the acting-director said sadly. _“To think that spirits of the dead would materialize on their own.”_ I found myself wondering just who the wraiths had been in life. Were they from this era or earlier? Or, somehow, the remaining traces of those who have yet to fall? I shook my head clear of these morbid thoughts just in time to hear Nero jumping in to the conversation.

“I’m used to it,” Nero said in a blasé tone. I felt a vein in my temple starting to pulse slightly at her lack of concern with what she had just said. She’s _used_ to the spirits of the dead attacking her on a daily basis? I mean, sure, she’s leading a fight against who-knows-how many Servants, but still! “So, uh, what were we talking abou—Right!” Nero suddenly shouted, startling Rits and I with the sudden increase in volume. “That Mediterranean god! Personally, I’d really like to find out the truth on that matter,” she said excitedly. Mash shuffled in uncertainty, her spare hand brushing some of her pink hair away from her eyes.

“Are you sure? Don’t you, _we_ , need to return to Rome?” Nero shook her head.

“I don’t know what this ancient god may be, but what if it’s truly one of the _gods_? It’s not impossible, right? There are Roman legends, too. For instance, Romulus, the founder and the first King of Rome, became the newest god of our people after he disappeared amidst a storm of lightning and thunder. Things like that occasionally happen,” Nero paused with a shrug, before huffing softly in amusement. “Ancient gods. How amusing. Regardless, we must assume they’re gods of Rome. If one of the United Empire’s ‘emperors’ took that god away, we’d have bigger problems.” Nero frowned, before staring each of us in the eye. “I don’t want that. That’s the one thing I absolutely cannot stand.”

 _“I see,”_ Doctor Roman interjected, his tone oozing respect. Perhaps to mollify somewhat the now-fired up blonde? _“Your Majesty’s words are reasonable. As guest commanders, we’d be happy to accompany you.”_

Since when was Doc a guest commander?!? Mash must have had a similar thought, for she frowned slightly.

“Aren’t you enjoying this a bit too much, Doctor?”

 _“That’s not true!”_ I swear to whatever deity is watching us, if he says ‘that’s impossible’, I might have to smack the back of Roman’s head slightly when we got back to Chaldea. _“I just can’t hide my overflowing curiosity as a researcher!”_

I sighed as Mash blinked in confusion. “But…that’s…”

Whatever she was going to say it was, she didn’t get to voice it, as Fou began chirping in concern, looking at Nero, concern filling the critter’s oddly-colored eyes.

“Fu…Kyu, kyu. Fou,” the critter chirped as Nero stared off into the forest with a concerningly-vacant expression on her face once more.

“Come on, Nero, say something,” Mash muttered softly, but getting no response. She cleared her throat softly and tried again, speaking louder. “Nero? Are you alright?”

“Hmmm, what?” Nero said, blinking rapidly before looking at us. “No, I’ve decided. A triumphant return from the sea might not be so bad! We can go to that port I mentioned, and take a ship to investigate. After that, we’ll continue our return journey through the ocean. I’m rather tired of traveling on land!” She declared.

“She spaced out again,” I muttered softly to Jeanne. While Mordred was nearby, she didn’t exactly have a high opinion of the Emperor of Roses.

“I see. So, this is what Boudica must have meant,” the Maid of Orléans murmured back, her turquoise eyes sympathetic as she gazed at Nero. “Doctor Roman, did your machines detect anything from her just now?”

 _“Yes, there was definitely a trace a magical energy in Nero just now. However, it could just mean that she has the potential to be a mage,”_ Roman said quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the person in question just yet. Thankfully, she seems to have been suitably distracted with her decision she had just made.

“All right, then it’s settled! It’s been a while since I last commanded a vessel, but it’s good to travel by sea. Umu, Ritsuka, Jacob, let me show you my brilliant sailing skills!”

“I can’t wait!” Ritsuka said, while I was smore reserved.

“I’m a bit worried,” I muttered, though Nero didn’t appear to have noticed, beaming a smile as bright as the sun.

“No need to be embarrassed. Umu, you’re bad at hiding your feelings, huh?” Or maybe she did, but didn’t take any insult from my statement of a lack of confidence in the validity of her skill?

_“The emperor is amazing! Whatever you say, she interprets it in a positive way!”_

…Maybe everything will work out fine?

* * *

Me and my big, fat mouth…

“Geeze, Rits,” I remarked, rubbing a hand up and down my friend’s back weakly as he leaned against the railing of the small liburna we had boarded with a dozen of Nero’s guards. The others had been left behind to guard the port and treat their injured comrades for the time being. “I didn’t know you suffered from seasickness.”

“Y-Yeah…lucky m-urgh!” His words were cut off as another wave of nausea overwhelmed him. Still, it was interesting to see his attempt at sarcasm. Out of the two of us, I was the one typically giving out such remarks. I must be starting to rub off on him or something. I withdrew my hand to allow Mash to take over, noticing the protective expression on her face even as she was fighting off her own nauseous.

Ritsuka, Mash, and I, along with some of the more bolder Servants like Mordred and Marie, stood near the prow of the vessel, while Nero steered the ship from the rear, all the while acting like an admiral. Part of me wondered if Ritsuka’s seasickness had less to do with the normal causes of the nauseous ailment, and more as a result of Nero’s…captaining.

Somehow, _somehow,_ she was managing to force the swift vessel we were riding to perform near-impossible maneuvers, having personally taken control of the rudder and ordering for the oars to be stowed. When I had asked why, the Emperor of Roses had said that she wished to display her skill at the helm, with only her hands and the wind to guide her.

Needless to say, it was certainly an experience.

Just one that I could have done without.

“Master,” Mordred groaned, tightly gripping the railing under her gauntlets to the point that the wood began splintering. “I think I’m going to have to kill that brat if she keeps this up.”

“No murdering our allies,” I said sternly, and Mordred huffed in annoyance. “Look on the bright side, I think we’re almost there,” I said hopefully, pointing a finger up ahead to the rapidly-approaching beach.

“Umu, I see our destination is just ahead! Most wonderful timing indeed, for I have just had a moment of inspiration for a song!” Nero cried out in child-like joy. Having not heard her singing, I wasn’t sure about what to expect, but the sudden, stony expressions on the faces of Nero’s accompanying guard certainly weren’t ominous.

No, not at all ominous…

* * *

“Worst…boat ride…ever,” I growled, resisting the urge to cry out my frustration as I stood on my shaky legs that were adjusting to being on dry land, all while my ears were still ringing. Next to me, Mordred was cursing up a storm, while on the other side, the near-constantly polite Jeanne had a troubled expression on her lips as she rubbed the palm of one hand against her right ear gingerly.

If I had thought that Nero’s boating skills were of dubious quality, they were far superior to her singing! No one had escaped with their hearing unscathed. I couldn’t speak for the others, but for me, the best way I could describe it was as if a foghorn had mated with an angle grinder, and then was strapped to the back of the most pissed-off donkey in the world. I had a feeling Amadeus might have used harsher words, if it weren’t for the near-catatonic state he had fallen into, being assisted by his close friend Marie off of the vessel.

“Umu, that was some nice wind!” A completely unrepentant Nero chirped cheerfully. “It was the most aggressive voyage ever!”

“Thank goodness my semicircular canals were enhanced. If I hadn’t become a Demi-Servant…” Mash’s face took on a queasy expression and she shuddered slightly. “Ugh…I’m not going to go there,” she said as my commlink went off.

“Yes?”

 _“Y-You all seem to have gone through an ordeal. I could tell by your vitals. The soldiers couldn’t leave either. Oh, poor men! Since the emperor offered to take the wheel herself, I thought she had impeccable skills. But wait, maybe,_ just _maybe! Those_ were _impeccable skills, in a sense,”_ Roman suggested, and I stared at the wrist-strapped device incredulously. What in the hell is he trying to say?

“Doc?” I asked warily.

“ _I mean, the ship’s still standing after such a rocky journey. It also leapt through waves, and drifted some turns…it’s amazing when you think about it. Just what you’d expect of the emperor.”_

“Don’t be stupid,” I said with a scoff. Good grief, talk about having a case of the rose-tinted glasses. He gave off yet another one of his sheepish bouts of laughter.

“ _Oh c’mon Jacob, you didn’t get mads, did you?”_ Instead of speaking, I decided to let my silence serve as my reply. Chaldea’s acting-director finally coughed awkwardly, dropping the idea that Nero was good with boating. “ _Anyways, what’s important is that you guys landed safely on the rumored island. You should start looking for this ancient—”_

“We have someone approaching,” Gilles called out, having been the first one off the boat and being an advance scout of sorts while the rest of us recovered from this unexpected ordeal.

‘ _Wait, maybe we don’t have to look after all? It seems the god is coming to greet us,”  
_Doctor Roman said at the same time, though his voice adopted a warning tone. “ _However, I am detecting a Servant. Be on your guard.”_

“Wait, another enemy attack? So this island is also under the yoke of the United Empire,” Nero said with a curse, drawing her sword as Mordred and the others summoned their own weapons (well, everyone but Amadeus, that is).

 _“No, this is…a Servant, but…something’s off,”_ the good doctor replied, and I could imagine him squinting at his display right now with a furrowed brow based off of his tone. _“It’s different than normal, what is this?”_ A girlish laughed echoed around us, as a young girl stepped forward. She had light purple hair and eyes, and wore a white dress with dark trimming, and some odd bits of jewelry on her arms, though the most odd thing about her had to be the multi-color circle hovering around her head, like an angel’s halo flipped on it’s side. She looked to be around the age of eleven, but looks can be deceiving, especially when it comes to matters involving Servants.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m not a ‘normal’ Servant,” the Servant said cheerfully. “Good day, heroes. Welcome to my humble temporary home for this era, the ‘Shaped’ Isle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! We're about two-thirds of the way through the Second Singularity. Sorry if the chapter had too many time skips, but I didn't have enough inspirational material to write a full chapter covering only the aftermath of the battle in the last chapter, and I wanted to move on. Still, did you guys enjoy the chapter? Sorry if the fight scene against the ghosts (which I say in-game look more like wraiths) was very short, but really, I was including it because I wanted to introduce the enemy type, like how two chapters ago I introduced the golems. Don't worry though, we'll be seeing more of those annoying pests :/ At least Medea and Amadeus got a chance to shine finally :)
> 
> I swear, for all that I am having Jacob bashing Nero, I don't hate the Emperor of Roses! I find her fascinating, even if I feel that some of her mannerisms can be a bit....off-putting. It's just that in this case, she really can't do too much because the game has given her the status of a normal human (more or less). Still, I hope I am staying true to her personality?
> 
> Next chapter should be either Friday or Saturday. Debating whether or not posting a chapter on Friday the 13th would be considered a bad omen LMAO
> 
> Now, for the question of the day: Did you guys get anything good this week from the free thirty Saint Quartz that was given on Monday? I got a five star CE 'Vessel of the Saint', though I did a single pull right afterwards and got Tesla. Last three 30 SQ cost pulls have given me only CEs, while singles have continued giving me five and four stars. Made single pulls are the way forward?
> 
> Second question: If you have to choose between listening to Elisabeth singing or Nero, and without any way to lessen the pain, who would you choose and why?
> 
> Once again, a many sincere thank you to everyone who has given this story a chance, I hope y'all enjoyed another chapter, and I eagerly await to read your thoughts, comments, and daily question answers! Stay safe and healthy, and see you in a few days!


	39. The Shaped Isle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company go spelunking, and Ritsuka has a brief reflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The along-awaited chapter where we get to see something from Ritsuka's POV has arrived. Only a portion, but I wanted to try writing from his perspective, so let me know what you guys think! More importantly, hope you enjoy Chapter 39, and see you in the A/N!

“Good day, heroes. Welcome to my humble temporary home for this era, the ‘Shaped’ Isle,” the young-looking Servant said cheerfully, an innocent smile on her lips. Unlike her eyes, which I felt were cold and calculating, sizing each and every one of us up. Finally, she kept her gaze on Ritsuka and I, and her smile widened, as her pale cheeks flushed slightly with color.

“My, oh my. I was wonder what kinds of magnificent heroes were here,” the unnamed Servant purred, and to my surprise, Mordred took a step closer to me, almost protectively despite the lack of hostility in either words or actions being displayed by the newcomer. “Alas, to my surprise, it seems that there are Servants in your group. Unfortunately, I was waiting for _human_ heroes,” she added with a dramatic sigh.

“This presence—” Mash muttered, seeming troubled.

 _“What in the world…can this even be possible?”_ Doctor Roman asked, sounding dumbfounded. _“Her reading is definitely like a Servant, but yet it is still different.”_

“Could she be the ‘ancient god’ we heard tell of?” Ritsuka asked, as the girl continued smiling at us with a predatory glint in her eyes.

 _“An immeasurable divinity level!”_ Roman suddenly exclaimed, sounding alarmed. _“Without a doubt, she’s definitely a god. No, a goddess!”_

“Well, there goes your whole confidence on Divine Spirits and their ability to appear,” I said sarcastically, and the Divine Spirit posing as a pre-teen tittered in amusement.

“That’s right. I am a goddess. My name is Stheno. One of the three Gorgon Sisters,” she said proudly, before a slight frown appeared. “Though, I do rather dislike being called an ancient god, but it’s fine. It is true, after all, that where you’re from, I am a past god. You may call me whatever you wish, though. After all, time is irrelevant when it comes to my beauty.”

And I had thought that Nero had excessive self-confidence on her looks. While I wouldn’t say it aloud, Stheno could be at beast considered cute in terms of look. Goddess or not, she still looked like a pre-teen to me, and that was more than enough to make me feel uncomfortable. And a gorgon? Shouldn’t she be having, I don’t know, snake hair?!?

“Servant of a Divine Spirit, not a Heroic Spirit?” Mash said, feeling just as confused as the rest of us about this situation. Then again, this was kinda a normal day working for Chaldea, wasn’t it? “Doctor, this is different from what we talked about.”

 _“Y-Yeah, I guess everything has an exception. O-Oh, this is unheard of, a Divine Spirit Servant. Furthermore, one of_ the _ancient Greek gods! That’s an authentic god!”_ Doctor Roman responded to the Demi-Servant. There was a brief pause before he resumed speaking. _“Is that possible? I mean, she is actually standing before you guys…even so, there’s no way she can remain a god. I mean, it’s the same for Heroic Spirits. Her power must have been downsized. Gods no longer have ‘Authority’ on this land, and if that’s the case—”_

Stheno released another polite chirp of laughter, a faint glimmer of amusement in her eyes for once. “Aren’t you a knowledgeable one, Mage? That’s right, you are not mistaken there. However,” the Divine Spirit said, elegantly raising a single finger upwards. “There’s one thing you should remember, pure one.”

 _“W-What is it? To think a goddess would personally instruct me,”_ Roman said, awe-struck and in disbelief. Her words only continued to raise my guard, however. Something about this apparent goddess was sending me the shivers. Though she was yet to prove herself a foe, I wouldn’t call her an ally just yet.

“Oh, what a wonderful voice. It has a nice sound to it. I would love to see your face, but…” Stheno sighed loudly, looking disappointed. “Such a shame. You’re in a place where even my ‘eyes’ can’t reach. If you were in my embrace, I’d have done something nice to you in the blink of an eye.” And doesn’t that sound like the first steps of a law suit!

“ _Whoa…I just had shivers down my entire body…this presence, it’s completely different than the one of Dark Jeanne!”_

“Oh, that’s just your imagination,” Stheno said breezily. “Allow me to inform all of you clueless people,” she added smugly, and I could see the first hints of what I presumed to be her true personality. “Not all gods are powerful. ‘Myself’ and I are quite ‘feeble’ beings.”

“Huh?” Mash said, cocking her head slightly.

 _“Based on the readings, you’re quite an individual,”_ Doctor Roman remarked, finally sounding more professional once more. Maybe Da Vinci had swung by or something? _“So, does that mean you’re not hostile because your combat abilities are low?”_ Stheno nodded her head slightly.

“There are goddesses who are never asked to fight. For instance, you over there,” she said, waving a dainty hand towards Mash.

“You mean me?”

“Though you’re not a goddess, you are still similar enough to prove my point. Your power is not to kill, but to protect, no?”

“…It is.”

“Hehe,” Stheno giggled, and this time the laughter felt more…sincere. “I do like honest girls. I’d like to pamper you like I do to my little sisters,” she said mischievously, and I swore that I could have seen Mash shiver slightly, as did Nero as well. However, the latter quickly recovered, pouting slightly as she stomped over.

“Anyway! Stop leaving me out of the conversation!” She demanded childishly. “I get the gist of what you’re saying. That goddess isn’t another enemy, right?”

“Right,” mash said, before hesitating. “At least, I’m assuming that’s the case.”

“Then, in that case, isn’t it simple? Ancient Goddess Stheno, come to Rome! I am the fifth emperor of the Roman Empire, Nero Claudius. I shall accept you as a new god. Let us defeat the United Empire together!” Nero boldly offered.

Stheno’s face had a pleased expression. The ego of a Greek deity, perhaps? I would never claim to be an expert or anything on the various and often convoluted tales, but the impression I had gotten from them was that the Greek deities could be quite vain and petty.

“Well now, how dazzling you are, almost as much as Apollo,” Stheno said sweetly, before giving the Emperor of Roses and apologetic smile. “But I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I am not suitable for combat. Now that I’ve taken on the form of a Servant, I do have _some_ skills, as well as basic functions, but I don’t possess the power to fight valiantly like my youngest sister, Medusa.”

 _“What?”_ Doctor Roman asked in disappointment, and the gorgon chuckled mischievously.

“I said I don’t have the power. You’ll get stabbed in the back if you don’t stop being insensitive~  
Stheno said, almost teasingly. So, it seems that my paranoia has just proven to be founded. I can almost feel Mordred’s tension as she tensed her body, but I shook my head subtly at her.

“No, or at least, not yet,” I whispered, and the Knight of Rebellion reluctantly nodded, forcing her body to relax.

 _“…Sorry, I get it. She’s more of the type of goddess who hunts her prey, I guess,”_ Roman said nervously.

“You two, however,” Stheno resumed, ignoring the acting-director’s words to instead point at Ritsuka and I, “are heroes who came all the way here. I should give you a reward. Though, back in the day, I would’ve incited Medusa…” Stheno idly said, speaking aloud rather than to us with hat last part, I presume. I narrowed my eyes, trying not to glare at the Divine Spirit.

“Incited?” Ritsuka nervously asked.

“Incited?” Nero echoed cautiously.

“Did you say incited?” Mash asked in a polite, yet nervous manner of her own. Stheno’s eyes widened slightly, and she released a soft, nervous giggle. By this point, I had a feeling that it was more due to having her words be heard unintentionally, rather than the idea they suggested.

“Ahem, hehe, never mind!” Stheno said quickly, before having an ‘ah-ha’ expression, snapping her left fingers together. “I know, I’ll give you a goddess’s blessing. As you walk along the coast, you’ll find an entrance to the cave. All the way in the back is a treasure I’ve prepared. It doesn’t exist in nature. It’s something _special_ ,” she said. Was it my imagination, or had she put some extra emphasis on that last part. “I’ll give it to you two because you’re fun. I don’t usually reward people like this,” Stheno finished with an amused laugh.

Nero’s eyes gleamed excitedly, like a child being given their birthday presents. “Well, a goddess’s blessing…That’s really…” She seemed to be at a loss for words, shivering excitedly as Doctor Roman’s voice was heard.

 _“It’s interesting. It could be the Holy Grail,”_ he suggested. I was only half-paying attention, noticing how Stheno was walking off to a cluster of rocks, daintily brushing the top of a rather large one, before sitting down and smiling like a model. I had a bad feeling about this.

“It doesn’t match up with Caesar’s information,” Mash pointed out. Before I could jump in, however, the pink-haired Demi-Servant continued speaking. “That said, I think there’s still a chance—”

“I don’t care what kind of treasure it is,” Nero interjected, sounding rather childish. “I try to love everything.”

“I don’t like this,” I finally said, and Ritsuka, Mash, and Nero all looked at me with varying looks of inquiry. “Something about Stheno has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. And the way that she talked about this supposed ‘treasure’? Yeah, I think that there’s something off, there. I say we go back to Rome and focus on finding the location of the Holy Grail, and therefore the capital of the United Empire.

“Jacob, what if this is something useful though?” Ritsuka said slowly, with Mash nodding in agreement. “Why don’t we put it up to a vote?” He suggested, and I shrugged, having a bad feeling that I wasn’t going to be winning any such event.

“All opposed?” Nero asked imperiously, and only Mordred and I raised our hands, the other Servants staying out of the debate.

“And those in favor?” Nero asked, holding her own hand in the air, along with an apologetic Mash and Ritsuka. “Umu, then we have our next destination!” The Emperor of Roses said cheerfully.

 _“Alright then,”_ Doctor Roman finally said, trying to sound upbeat, but I tuned him out as I spoke a bit harsher than I intended to.

“Fine, I see that I am outvoted. Let’s just find this cave and see what’s the big deal. The sooner we get back to Rome, the better,” I muttered the last part to Mordred, who grunted in agreement as I began marching in the direction the Divine Spirit had gestured at earlier, the Knight of Rebellion right next to me.

* * *

Ritsuka gazed at the back of his fellow Master, a guilty feeling in his stomach still from Jacob’s reaction. The older boy wasn’t acting all that sulky, thankfully, but he had made clear his displeasure already, and had kept relatively silent, having taken the lead of the group along with Mordred.

Ritsuka had noticed Jeanne’s soft smile at the sight of the two, and once more he felt the urge to ask the pleasant blonde what she found to be so amusing. It hadn’t been the first time, either, and both Mash and he were getting tired of being left in the dark.

Speaking about the Demi-Servant, his kouhai was right next to him as always. Though she acted naïve at times, she was a remarkably intelligent girl, perhaps even brighter than he, but yet she never acted superior in any way, not even as a Demi-Servant, which essentially did make her superior to him, in a way. Honestly, he felt grateful for that aspect of her. He enjoyed spending time with Mash, and the idea of her becoming haughty and arrogant just felt unnatural.

He felt a slight smile grace his lips briefly. If his twin was hear, Gudako would have probably been teasing him about being Mash’s Senpai or something. Honestly, he loved his sister, but sometimes the redhead was a pain in the butt.

If she was here right now, his twin would probably make some sort of quip about asking if he was going to get Mash to call him ‘daddy’ or something, then laughing heartily at Mash’s inevitable full blush and Ritsuka’s protests. She was mischievous in that way, annoying though it might be. And yet, he missed even that aspect of his twin so dearly now.

A faint wave of sadness washed over his body, and the smile faded. It was hard to believe that as of this moment, his family technically no longer existed. He would have too, if it wasn’t for Gudako’s instance that he accepted the offer from Chaldea. When he had found out that only he had been accepted, Ritsuka had said to his twin sister that he was going to decline the offer if it was only for him.

Gudako had flicked his forehead, rolling her eyes dramatically as she berated him for being an idiot to even think about passing up such an opportunity for such a silly reason. When he had started to protest her response, Gudako had merely said that Ritsuka would just have to tell her everything that he would go through, and maybe even see if sometime he could get a chance to bring her over to Chaldea.

If it wasn’t for her, he would probably be gone, erased from existence like the rest of his family, along with over 99% of humanity.

If they failed, if _he_ failed, to restore the world to what is was? Well, it had kept Ritsuka awake late at night on more than one occasion. Each time, he spent the morning reminding himself that not only was it that they couldn’t fail, but that they _wouldn’t_ fail. He would see his family again.

Hopefully, he could introduce both Jacob and Mash to her and their parents after everything was restored to the way that it should be.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a gentle shaking of his shoulder by his own first Servant. “Senpai, we’re here,” Mash reported dutifully. Ritsuka nodded, looking towards his fellow Master, who had a neutral expression on his face as he stared at the cave opening. The faintest sounds of water droplets hitting the floor of the cave was the only noise they could hear coming from inside, and the inside glowed slightly. Algae or something along the lines of that, if his memories of the biology lessons in high school were correct.

“Well, the last time we were in a cave, we almost got squashed by a cave-in, and then had our boss brutally murdered, again. Let’s hope this time goes better,” Jacob said gruffly, though none of his ire was aimed at Ritsuka.

Indeed, he felt his own level of anxiety about going into another cave himself. However, he had supported the idea of exploring this cavern, and so they could go forward. “Maybe this time will be better,” he suggested, and Jacob shot him a wary, though not dismissive, look.

“Well, only one way to find out,” his fellow Master grunted, fidgeting with the sheath, his sword still resting inside, before detaching it from his belt.

“What are you doing, Jacob Senpai?” Mash asked.

“We have no idea if anything in there might be venomous, or if there are any snakes or whatnot hiding behind rocks. I’ll use my sheath to probe around corners and all,” Jacob said with a shrug, lightly resting the tip of his scabbard against the sand.

“I’ve never gone cave exploring before!” The ever-excitable Marie said, jumping in place briefly.

“Hmph, you haven’t missed out on much, then,” Chulainn said, perhaps also thinking about the cave in Fuyuki, perhaps? He still needed to ask the laid-back Lancer about his Holy Grail War experience sometime. Maybe after the Grail is retrieved.

“Just mind your heads,” Jacob said, before entering the cave. Taking a deep breath, Ritsuka followed his quasi-mentor of sorts.

* * *

“Ugh,” Nero groaned in displeasure. “It’s so dark, and clammy…”

“It’s not exactly comfortable in here, is it?” Mash added sympathetically, looking ahead. Ritsuka strained his own eyes in an effort to see what lay ahead.

The algae lining the cave walls was barely providing enough light to make out general outlines of what lay ahead, but just enough to barely manage, as a still-scowling Chulainn could attest to after having knocked his forehead against a low-lying stalactite. “It’s so hard to see ahead,” Mash said with a soft sigh.

“At least we haven’t run into any actual trouble,” he said, trying to maintain a cheerful atmosphere. Fate, apparently, was not willing to be so cooperative today, it turns out.

“ _Oh…”_

“Doctor, is something wrong?” Mash asked, pausing with everyone else. Jacob quietly pulled out his sword, while Mordred and some of the other Servants summoned their own. “Your face…I mean your voice sounds funny.”

“ _We’ve been deceived. No,_ I’ve _been deceived. Forgive me, but there are multiple magical energy signals up ahead,”_ Roman said sadly, and Ritsuka winced, unwilling to make eye contact with Jacob.

“What?” Mash asked, summoning her shield and bracing it against her free arm, eyes wide in alarm.

“ _They’re not Servants, but it is a type of monster,”_ the acting-director reported. _“Does this mean…that goddess…set us up?”_

“Is this the time where I get to say that I told you so?” Jacob said dryly, gripping his sword as the first few skeletal warriors charged forward. Ritsuka only laughed sheepishly as he watched the American mage charge forward, Mordred right next to him.

* * *

Called it. Absolutely called it!

That line about having been right might have been rather petty of me, but I didn’t focus on that. It wasn’t like I meant any actual ill by it, and in a strange way, my actions felt a bit cathartic, truth be told.

I growled in satisfaction as the hilt of my sword smashed through the aged bone between the empty eye-sockets of a skeletal warrior. The reanimated body crumbled apart, the various bones clattering around my feet as I took a half-step forward,

Next to me, Mordred threw her armored body into a cluster of three skeletons, instantly destroying one while knocking the remaining duo off of their feet. Not relenting, the Knight of Rebellion slammed first one foot, then the other at the skulls of the prone foes. Her metal sabatons easily crunched through aged bone, and the knight darted forth to decimate another cluster of the walking dead.

It honestly felt good to be dealing with non-Servant foes who weren’t fellow humans, even if that meant dealing with yet another horde of irksome skeletons. All we needed now were zombies, and it would truly be like France and Fuyuki all over again.

I leaned backwards as a rusty short sword swung past me. Quickly adjusting my posture, I glared at the skeleton missing both an arm and its lower jaw that had snuck up on me while I had been distracted by my musings. Serves me right for forgetting one of the tenets of fencing: Always keep a clear mind in a match.

I quickly made short work of the lifeless grunt when I hear an angry grunt from nearby.

“What is going on here?” Nero demanded angrily, slicing her sword through the spine of her own skeletal attacker, and the unliving body crumbling to the ground. “This cave is full of skeletons!”

“Well, let’s hope there’s just skeletons here,” Mash said nervously.

“More skeletons inbound!” Gilles roared, cleaving open the skull of a spear-wielding skeleton as more clattering footsteps grew louder and louder. Soon, dozens more of the weak but numerous foes appeared, weapons raised and those whose lower mandibles weren’t damaged or missing hanging open, as if to bellow forth a battle cry.

“Sword-wielding skeletons aren’t a treasure by a long shot!” Nero exclaimed before throwing herself towards another skeleton. With a single flick of her wrist, the risqué-dressed blonde disarmed both figuratively and literally the animated skeleton, with a second flick severing the spinal column just underneath the foramen magnum.

A quick incantation from Medea, and a half-dozen of her rarely-used enhanced skeletal warriors emerged from the ground before charging forth, the more resilient products of superior magecraft decimating their lesser forms. Amadeus and Marie held back, their attacks more of a hinderance for us in the relatively limited area we had to move around in.

It was tiring work, but after what felt like an hour had passed, we had pushed deeper into the cave, until we reached both the end of the subterrain area and the last of the irritating skeletons. While not exhausted, or at least, in regards to Mash and our Servants, they were certainly winded.

I looked around to observe our surroundings. It was certainly a tad darker here, but that’s to be expected by this point. It was a huge cavern, reminiscent of the one where Mordred had confronted the corrupted version of her father, which of course didn’t do anything to ease the anxiety I’d been dealing with since first entering this blasted labyrinth of sorts.

“Phew,” Nero sighed wearily, planting the tip of her sword into the stony floor and leaning heavily against her weapon, being careful to not injure herself all the while. “I’m getting a bit exhausted…I want to go back and rest…”

I rolled my eyes, though whether it was at the blonde who was kvetching or the blonde who was grumbling about how much she wanted to slap the Roman, not even I was sure.

 _“But what do you know?”_ Roman said rather excitedly, apparently having recovered from his bout of self-disappointment. _“Looks like we reached the back of the cave while fighting. I’m getting a unique signature here. This amount of energy—”_ Roman released a strangled gasp, and my eyes narrowed.

“Doctor? Doctor, what is it?” I barked, activating my Magic Circuits while tensing my body. Mordred resumed her typical combat stance, and we all started to instinctively group up together, Servants, Demi-Servant, and humans alike.

 _“No, that’s not possible,”_ Roman said numbly.

“Is it the Holy Grail?” Mash asked hopefully.

 _“No, no, it’s not the Holy Grail at all! It’s a Phantasmal Beast. Not a dragon, but still a powerful mystical beast!”_ Ah, goodie, still par for the course then, I see. Before I could ask what kind of ‘mythical’ creature we were about to deal with, a horrific roar shook the cavern.

The best way the roar could have been described was like a lion’s roar mixed with the bleating bellows of a sheep, with a sibilant hiss of a viper added in just a pinch. It sounded like no living creature that walked the earth, and a set of heavy footsteps that shook the ground slightly drew closer.

“Get back!” Jeanne said in alarm, grabbing the back of my uniform and forcibly dragging me towards Mash, Ritsuka, Nero, and the other less combat-oriented Servants as the Maid of Orléans started to twirl her flagstaff a bit nervously before me as a dark shape stepped into the faint light we had.

It had the face and mane of a large lion, along with most of the body of one. The back legs, however, were goat-like, cloven hoofed and taut with muscles. A single kick from them would be no less dangerous than a swipe of the clawed front limbs of the beast. About halfway down it’s back was the head of a goat, glaring at us balefully. The rump of the creature was scaly, and to complete the bizarre and monstrous appearance was the head and upper portion of a viper, it’s black, forked tongue flicking in and out as it bared long fangs dripping with venom.

“This is—” Mash started to say before another voice cut her off.

“It’s so huge!” Nero gasped, though sounding somehow more excited than horrified. “Oh, but that lion has a cute face!” To my numb amusement, the chimera (for what other mythical creatures from ancient Greece bore such a wide variety of unusual body parts), actually fell silent, all three heads tilting to the side as if dumbfounded, six eyes staring at the Emperor of Roses.

 _“It’s a chimera, a legendary beast of ancient Greece. This is not a product of magecraft, but a true mystical beast!”_ Roman exclaimed in alarm, sounding frantic. Perhaps he was searching for answers, perhaps? _“Why would a thing like this be he—Oh, I know why. That goddess,”_ the good doctor growled, sounding angry for once. _“It’s powerful and has considerable toughness, so be careful!”_

“Roger. Master, commencing combat!” Mash said dutifully to Ritsuka, and I turned to my own partner. To my utter lack of surprise, Mordred had one of her feral smirks on her face as her entrancing emerald eyes sized up her newest opponent almost gleefully. Yep, her lust for battle had kicked in.

“Well, that brat wasn’t wrong when she said that it wasn’t something you wouldn’t find in nature and was special,” Mordred quipped dryly, her helmet slamming into place around her face as I released a sigh filled with my pent-up frustration at the cumulation of this side trip.

“Mordred, kill it.”

“Always know just what to say to me, Master,” Mordred said teasingly, crouching somewhat and readying her first attack. An action mirrored by Chulainn, Sasaki, and Gilles, who were the primary combat tanks of the team along with Mordred.

With a bleating roar, the chimera began charging forward, just as Mordred did the same with a roar of her own, as the massive and sturdy cavern began to quiver slightly as the battle began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, nothing like being duped by an uncomfortably-young looking Servant, am I right? Sorry if I made Jacob seem to suspect something sinister from Stheno, but come on, aside from her BS abilities, first time I saw that scene I was like, "Okay, she is going to mean trouble for me somehow". How did you like my depiction of describing the Chimera? I honestly enjoy mythological creatures, so I hope I did it at least some justice there! Also, poor Doctor Roman, trickable as always :(
> 
> Been trying to get Artoria with the rate-up, but so far the two 30 SQ got me a total of seven four or five star CE, and the singles have gotten me another Heracles, Another Artoria Alter (boy am I kind of regetting choosing her for my free four-star Servant for getting her twice technially in a week) and Saber Lancelot....why Gacha gods? Ahem, sorry about the rant. *Sigh* this is why I can't play poker. I get addicted to the thrill of chance lol
> 
> Anyways, for one of my favorite parts of posting a new chapter, the question(s) of the day! First one: What is your favorite boss monster from FGO?
> 
> Second Question: What do you imagine Mordred Alter being like, both in appearance and personality?
> 
> As always, thank you guys for all the support in the various forms you have given and continue to give me! I eagerly await to read y'alls thoughts, reviews, and DQ answers. More importantly, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 39, and I will see y'all in the next chapter!


	40. An Evening of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred fights a Chimera, while Jacob has a bad day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight time! Not much to say, other than enjoy and see you below!

Mordred skidded backwards, slamming Clarent into the ground and using the broad blade to slow her down as she tears a gauge out of the ground. Her helmet was retracted, having been damaged by an unexpected blast of energy from the goat head of the chimera. The warm, sticky sensation of blood dripping down the corner of her forehead was barely noticeable as she shook her head, a feral sneer on her lips.

Even after his fall and betrayal, Mordred had been envious of Lancelot’s slaying of the Questing Beast, or of the other knights who had fought similar ‘mythical’ creatures. Now, though, she had the chance to add another title to her name, in addition to Dragon-Slayer. Monster-Slayer had quite a ring to it, didn’t it?

It was a tad aggravating that she couldn’t use her ultimate weapon, her Noble Phantasm, without possibly causing a cave-in, but that didn’t matter in the end. She was a knight! The heir of King Arthur wasn’t some pushover. The knight was not the kind of person to shirk away from any kind of challenge.

And this was definitely turning out to be a challenging fight, but hey, those were the best ones, if you asked Mordred at least. About half of her fellow Servants were of little to no use in this fight as was, and the chimera was proving to have more than a few tricks up its mane, so to speak. At least the most important members of the group were safe.

Jeanne and Mash were doing their job of preventing any attacks from reaching the two Masters from Chaldea, while her old Archer opponent had an arrow notched against his bowstring, silently watching for an opportunity to attack.

Pushing herself back up onto her feet, the Knight of Rebellion activated her Mana Burst ability before sprinting forward, enjoying the sensation of air whistling against her exposed face as the chimera slammed its right paw against Assassin’s sword. The Japanese Servant grunted slightly, but didn’t stumble, and once more the Saber found herself disappointed that he wasn’t a fellow Saber.

The beast suddenly spun around, slamming the trunk of its snake head tail unexpectedly into the sword-wielder, sending the purple-haired Servant skidding backwards, temporary out of the fight. Seeing that its flank was exposed, Mordred swung Clarent in a slashing motion, feeling a wave of primal satisfaction within her veins as a streak of crimson was left behind.

It wasn’t a fatal blow by itself, but it was a damn good start! She tried to swing again, but the blade was suddenly pinned by the front right paw of an extremely pissed of Chimera. “Shit…” Mordred cursed, bracing herself to take a hit even as she tried to pull her sword free.

The goat head opened its mouth, preparing to fire another energy attack when the Archer of the group sent a carefully-aimed arrow into the right eye, partially blinding the beast. The built-up energy dissipated as its channeler’s concentration was disrupted.

Instead, the goat head began flailing around, bleating aggressively as it was apparently trying, and failing, to dislodged the arrow wedged into its right eye socket. In its distraction, Mordred saw a flash of blue and red, and the bleating stopped as Ritsuka’s Lancer thrusted his fancy-looking crimson toothpick through the throat. The Irish Servant grinned wolfishly before yanking out his spear, the barbed tip sending a thin arc of crimson splattering against the nearby cave wall.

Another roar of anger from the wounded creature shook the cavern as the main head stared balefully at Mordred and the others, while its snake head looked towards the slumped middle head in what vaguely seemed to be a mixture of shock and horror…if a serpent could show or even feel such emotions, that is.

Sensing an opportunity to further reduce the number of heads on the chimera, Mordred viciously nodded her head towards Sasaki, who had been circling around the creature, keeping to the outskirts of the fight after regaining his sense of balance. Readying his sword, he sprinted forward, his robes fluttering softly as the eyes of the Japanese Servant remained fixated on his target.

At the last moment, the snake head whipped around, baring long venomous fangs as its throat bulged slightly, before with a hiss a purple cloud of gas billowed out towards the oncoming Assassin.

Mordred watched as Sasaki tried to veer away from the ominous-looking cloud of vapors, but the Knight of Rebellion could tell that it was too late, and sure enough the Assassin stumbled into the cloud, and she could hear him coughing. Hacking, really, as he stumbled backward, dropping his sword as he placed one hand against his chest.

“Ha!” Gilles grunted, his longsword slicing through the scaley trunk of the viper-tail. The almost-glowing yellow eyes began to turn dull as the severed head landed on the cave floor with a dull _thud_ , blood flying through the air as the injured chimera flung the rest of its tail around wildly. “Jeanne, get Sasaki out of here!” The French Saber said. Ruler nodded and gently began pulling the faint-looking Assassin away, now out of the fight.

“Damn it,” Mordred growled, her gauntlet-clad hands tightly gripping the hilt of her sword. “Let’s finish this bastard off!”

“Do you have a plan of some sort?” Chulainn called out, sounding just as irritated as she felt. He probably meant that as a playful jab, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Actually, yes. You and Gilles attack the flanks, I will focus on the front. Push it backwards and pin it in a corner!”

“This better work,” Chulainn retorted, twirling his spear around as Gilles nodded solemnly in agreement. Mordred knows that a lot of people think that she isn’t one for strategy. That wasn’t exactly true. One needed strategy after all to plan a coup, but as a Servant, brute strength provided a hell of a lot of answers to most problems now.

Slowly but surely, the next half minute saw her two fellow Servants land around a score or so of light injuries against the chimera, which was forced to give ground each time, the sole remaining lion head snarling defiantly. Finally, Mordred felt the time was right. She readied Clarent, adjusting her grip, before charging forward.

“Take this!” Mordred shouted as she swung Clarent with all her strength. The blade of the sword that she had used to slay her father cut its way through first the tough hide, then the muscle, and eventually splintering the bone core of both of the chimera’s forepaws. The grievously-injured monstrosity howled, rearing back on its hindquarters while it flailed its bleeding stumps around in helpless rage, unintentionally exposing its underside.

Quickly adjusting her grip, Mordred thrusted forward with all of her might, sending the tip of the broadsword deep into the chest of the chimera, all the way to the hilt. As the monster’s remaining head shrieked in agony, blood trickled down Clarent’s guard, and down her gauntlets as she twisted her blade, widening the wound and causing further damage, before tugging out her sword and jumping backwards as the mortally-wounded monster collapsed onto the ground.

“And stay dead,” she spat, stabbing the base of the lion skull for good measure. The former Saber of Red still remembered the mistake she made against Berserker of Black in not ensuring her foe was truly dead and defeated. Well, that wasn’t going to happen this time.

The Chimera released a soft whimper, body thrashing weakly, before it went limp, and began dissolving. The cave fell silent as everyone watched the massive corpse fade away. Finally, the other Master of Chaldea broke the silence once the last remnants were gone.

“Medea, Amadeus, Chiron, can you guys take a look, see if there’s anything of worth in here?” Ritsuka asked. The former Archer of Black bowed his head slightly.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Marie, can you use your Noble Phantasm to stabilize Sasaki?” Jacob asked, noticing how pale his Assassin Servant was as he leaned against his sword. Huh, she thought he was looking a bit unwell after that attack by the snake-tail.

More importantly, at least she didn’t have to be the one to experience it. She could still remember the horrific taste of bile in her throat as it foamed and choked her while that damn witch bitch watched on in amusement.

Rider nodded and began her incantation, and Mordred felt her own light injuries being healed as her Master began channeling Mana into the links between him and his various Servants. She still felt a bit winded from all the fighting, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been in this position before. Certainty was also a plus that it was in a cave and not underneath a scorching sun or something.

Thankfully, the blonde who called herself a ruler was silent. Good lord, she was itching to deck the loudmouth, and consequences be damned! The fact that her appearance was vaguely reminiscent of that of her father only further irked the blonde.

“I fear we’ve been had yet again,” the Greek Archer suddenly called out, and Mordred gritted her teeth in a mixture of disappointment and displeasure, before looking to her Master.

“Nothing?” Jacob said, his voice sounding dangerously calm even as the knight noticed the slight shaking of his clenched hands at his side. Mordred watched her Master carefully. She had only seen him get angry a few times, and right now, he looked _livid_.

“Not a damn thing,” Chulainn said this time, the Lancer sounding as irritated by this as the others.

“That…that….brat!” Jacob suddenly snarled, causing Shieldy, Ruler, and Ritsuka to all jump slightly as her Master’s angry words rang throughout the cavern. “Let’s go. I want some answers,” he said, scowling. No one argued with him as he began walking briskly back the way they had entered, his boots occasionally crunching on the odd piece of bone lying here and there from the earlier skirmish.

The Knight of Rebellion quickly caught up to her Master, and she leaned over to him, eyes narrowed.

“You look furious, Jacob,” she muttered to her Master, who inclined his head subtly in acknowledgment of the statement. “What’re you planning to do?”

“I’m gonna rip that goddess a new one.”

* * *

I stomped across the sandy beach, viciously pleased to see that the one responsible for this whole mess hadn’t apparently left her spot. I could see her smug smile, and a rather cruel glint in her eyes. Despite my earlier suspicions, I had tried to give Stheno the benefit of the doubt, just as I had done with Mordred. Unlike with Mordred, however, her actions have caused me to regret that choice.

I glared at the gorgon, stomping other rapidly, my blood boiling at her actions.

“Surprised to see us still alive?” I snarled at the wide-eyed Stheno, her cheer dissipating, if only for a moment. She giggled at my ire, and the aggravated glares of the others, looking utterly unrepentant.

“Hehe, welcome back. Did you enjoy your special reward to the fullest?”

“I’m tired…so exhausted…” Nero moaned, and Mash gingerly clasped her shoulder in a sign of solidarity, looking drained herself.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “Consecutive battles in an enclosed space will wear you out beyond belief.”

“That was nothing,” I growled. My feet felt sore, but it was amazing how energizing anger can be at times. Mash looked at me with wide-eyes, startled.

“Are you sure? Jacob Senpai, at times you display extraordinary endurance..”

“More like brute strength,” Chulainn grumbled as another voice joined, one that had both Mordred and Amadeus stiffen slightly. The latter in particular looked like he had just been told by a doctor that an unusual growth on the back of his hand was going to be fatal to the Caster, and that he had then been handed the medical bill.

“Really, you’re so lame! I could have taken on a big cat like that without breaking a sweat!” A familiar popstar-looking young teen said smugly, arms crossed, while next to her a girl dressed up in what I could only best described as a cosplayer of some sort cackled. They had apparently been in Spirit Form, and only now were jumping into the conversation.

“What in the name of…?” Ritsuka asked slowly.

“Master, I’m sensing two enemies. Either lizards, dragons, or maybe idols…” My, my, Mash, you do have a sense of humor there, don’t you? “At any rate, we’re going to take them out!”

“No, that’s Elisabeth!” Ritsuka said hurriedly, his eyes wide in a mild panic as he gripped his Demi-Servant’s shoulders.

“I know, I know!” Mash _hissed_. “But she’s dangerous, Ritsuka Senpai,” the Shielder added, nodding her head towards an indignant Elisabeth. “I have a feeling that she might screw everything up!”

“ _I agree,”_ Doctor Roman suddenly interjected, speaking hurriedly yet softly. “ _let’s pretend we don’t notice her, so we can get away with it, you guys!”_

“Gah! What, that reaction again?!? You ugly, weird deerlet!” The dragon-girl sneered, glaring at Mash. Elisabeth’s new ‘friend’ cackled once again, who was holding some sort of tray bearing food of some sort. Well, at least _someone_ was having fun with this situation, apparently. Mash looked at Ritsuka, looking rather distraught.

“Senpai, a weird person told me I’m weird!” Oh, was this the first time she’s ever been bullied? Before I could say anything, Ritsuka took action, gently rubbing a hand up and down her back.

“There, there,” he said, trying to channel some of his inner Boudica. “She’s the weird one.”

“Whatever,” Elisabeth said with a scoff, rolling her ice-blue eyes. “I guess that cave was really tough. Welp, it can’t be helped with the Puppies’ abilities.” I could hear Mordred’s teeth grinding slightly. Not a good sign, though even in her slightly exhausted state, I had no doubt that the blonde knight could kick the Lancer’s ass again.

“…Just who the hell are you, appearing all of a sudden and talking nonsense?” Nero demanded, jabbing a finger aggressively at the Lancer’s direction, having finally caught her second wind. Elisabeth blinked, before narrowing her eyes and jabbing a long, manicured nail/claw at the Emperor of Roses.

“Who the hell are _YOU_?” Elisabeth retorted, before a look of confusion replaced her haughtiness. “Oh, I’m not sensing any magical energy…wait, a human? You?” Now it was Nero’s turn to blink, cocking her head slightly at the now-confused Servant.

“Not sure why you’re so surprised. You are rude and incentive. I would have slashed you already, if it wasn’t for the fact that I find you to look quite cute. I’m Nero Claudius, the true emperor of this era,” the blonde said proudly. “Um, why are you looking at me like that?” She added, having noticed that Elisabeth was now staring with a rather alarming intensity at her.

“Are you kidding me? The _real_ Nero?!?”

“The real…” Mash muttered, before an alarmed yet confused expression appeared.

“What do you mean by ‘real’? “ Nero demanded, sounding offended whilst the cat-looking girl cackled even louder. Did she even stop to breath?!?

 _“This is worse than France! I’m even more confused about what’s going on!”_ Doctor Roman moaned, and I could imagine the ginger man cupping his face with both hands. A wry grin appeared, the ridiculousness of this situation having tempered my ire at Stheno.

“Tell me why this is a land of confusion,” I quoted a line from the song by the group Genesis. To my slight disappointment, neither Ritsuka nor Roman acknowledged the admittedly-weak reference. Perhaps they hadn’t heard the song before?

“Anyways,” Stheno said a bit loudly, having apparently grown bored of watching the vaudeville performance she was getting. “When I materialized in this world, I dragged these two with me. I didn’t feel like I’d be able to complete the Heroes’ Cave on my own. So, I had these two serve as my…testers…for the cave,” Stheno explained. Elisabeth crossed her arms, huffing in annoyance.

“Hmph, it was a totally boring dungeon. Oh, but a live show in an underground cave would be a new concept, right?” We ignored her as Stheno shrugged.

“So, it seems that you know Elisabeth. What about this one?” The treacherous and deceitful Divine Spirit asked, nodding her head at the wannabe-Joker.

“Nope,” I said simply, popping the ‘p’ to add extra emphasis to my response.

“Uh, no…we’ve never met. Although, I know she’s a Servant—” Mash’s trepid reply was abruptly hijacked by yet another wave of laughter from the cat-girl(?).

“Ahahaha! Alright, let’s introduce ourselves! I am Tamamo Cat, one of the Tamamo Nine!” The Servant exclaimed proudly.

“So, you can speak,” I muttered, earning a chuff of laughter from both Mordred and Chulainn. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, Tamamo Cat continued speaking.

“I tag ‘woof’ at the end of my sentences. My hobby is café management, and my favorite food is carrots!” She paused, tapping her empty claw-mitten cladded hand to her chin lightly, a puzzled look on her face. “Hmmm, that’s pretty incontinent even for me. Woof, woof.”

“Huh?” Nero and Mordred said in unison, the somewhat look-alikes staring at the bizarre Servant. And that was saying something!

“She did that on purpose, too. Woof!” Mash said, before blushing as she realized what the hell she just did.

 _“Well then,”_ Roman said slowly, having decided to just roll along with this convoluted madness. _“I’m glad she’s not a hostile Servant. Or, maybe I should say I’m glad she’s not our ally?”_

“I was laughing because it was fun,” Tamamo Cat continued rambling in the meantime. I was starting to suspect that maybe, just maybe, she was of the Berserker class. “I’m a laughing drunk,” she said, shrugging at Mash.

“Oh, s-sure,” Mash said nervously, the poor girl/Demi-Servant looking out of her depth in dealing with the vocative Servant. Said Servant smiled brightly and nodded enthusiastically, all the while managing to somehow not sending the platter of food she was holding flying off to who-knows-where.

“I’m Tamamo Cat, one of the Tamamo Nine! Can I speak in cat language?” The Berserker asked. I threw my hands up in the air in frustration at that point.

“Okay, I need to take a break from this…this thing,” I said in exasperation, somewhat at a loss for words suitable to describe this whole mess. “I’m going to check on the boat by myself. Rits, if anything important happens, give me a shout,” I added, before stomping off in the direction of the still-beached boat.

The crew must be worried sick about our long absence. It would probably be a good idea to let them know that both we and, more importantly for them, the Emperor of Roses were okay. It was also a good excuse that would allow me to have some time to myself, and let my temper completely cool off. Last thing I wanted was to lash out at my friends, or say something stupid to Mordred and set our partnership back to day zero or something.

I was rather angry, yes, but none of my comrades deserved to deal with it. It would be better for me to have the others give me some space so I can cool off, than to snap at any well-intentioned actions being done with he goal of trying to put me back into good spirits.

“Damn, looks like we won’t have a chance to get back to Rome before nightfall. Just great… can anything else go wrong today?” I muttered, noticing just how low in the sky the sun was. Even in my disgruntled state of mind, I was able to admire just how beautiful the evening sky was, with the calm waters of the Mediterranean sea looking almost golden.

Shaking my head, I look back to see that I was about halfway to the ship, and continued walking. It will be nice at least to finally get the chance to get rid of the sand that was clinging to my boots, and for a moment, I had the foolish desire to have brought flipflops along, so as to avoid the risk of getting sand in my socks.

“LOOK OUT!”

At the same time that I heard the warning (though from whom I couldn’t tell), I felt someone standing close to me. No, rather, towering over me with an oppressive and malevolent aura being emitted that caused a shiver to run down my spine. Wide-eyed, I turned around to see a familiar-looking figured leering down at me even as water lapped at his feet.

Two massive fists, each of which could squash my head like a ripe peach, began their downwards descent as a single word filled my ears.

“DIE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done, ending with a cliffhanger! What did you guys think? Wanted to bring back Mordred's perspective, cause it has been a few chapters since last time that happened. Also, was the fight good, even if it was short? I'm worried about somehow becoming repetitive, so I want to know if my fight scenes are still enjoyable to read, and not just starting to feel like filler material or something. Finally, sorry if the chapter is chaotic, but hell, in game this was a chaotic scene in and of itself! Also, get ready for a few more Servant battles over the next few chapters! :)
> 
> As for the question on Mordred Alter, I want to say thank you to everyone who has already left their thoughts and opinions. As much as I want to tell you about what I have in store, that would be a massive spoiler, and so you will have to wait. Hopefully that just serves as another incentive to continue reading the story (not that I imagine you guys and gals need it by this point lol). Also, I didn't expect to have somehow inspired someone to write a story using Mordred Alter, so I am happy to have asked this question!
> 
> Now, for this chapter's question(s): Do you prefer subs or dub when watching anime?
> 
> Also, who is your favorite Divine Spirit from Fate?
> 
> As always, a sincere thanks to each and every last one of you amazing readers for taking the time to read the story. I hope you enjoyed yet another chapter of The Will to Fight, and I eagerly await to read y'alls feedback and thoughts! Have a wonderful day, and I will see y'all sometime this weekend with Chapter 41!


	41. Going Berserk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company face off against an enemy Servant, and Jacob and Mordred butt heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am really nervous about how people are going to react to this fight. Hopefully it goes well, especially considering I wrote this with a ruptured eardrum LMAO. Anyways, enjoy, and see y'all in the end notes

“DIE!”

The twin fists were swinging down, and my life began flashing before my eyes for a moment as the instinct to ensure survival took over. My body moved on its own as the two fists slammed intot he sand at my feet, missing me by just a hair.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, using the swear word that I rarely say aloud while jumping backwards as Caligula shook the remnants of water off of his body. The Emperor of Madness somehow managed to look even more insane as he stared murderously at me, before his gaze flicker past me.

“Where…is….she?” The Berserker demanded, advancing menacingly towards me. I immediately begin backpedaling, trying to move as fast as I can back the way I came without taking my eyes off of Caligula. I couldn’t fight him. Fighting on your own against something as powerful as a Servant is risky, almost suicidally so, at best. Against a Berserker?

I would have better odds at catching a bullet safely with my teeth while it was in midflight. By now, I could hear a trio of familiar voices calling out from behind.

“Master!” Mordred roared, charging towards me from behind even as I continued stepping backwards

“Jacob!” Ritsuka added.

“Praetor!” Nero finished, and it was her voice that cause Caligula to have a most violent reaction,

“MY! My! My…actions…are…fate!” Caligula roared, and he sounded more deranged somehow than in our last encounter. “Sacrifice your lives! Sacrifice your flesh!” The hostile Berserker demanded, taking one thunderous step forward, the impact kicking up a small cloud of sand.

“U-Uncle?” Nero rasped, sounding horrified as Mordred finally finished closing the gap between the two of us. The knight grabbed the back of my uniform, roughly hauling be behind her and Jeanne as the latter planted the butt of her weapon into the beach. I took a split second to re-observe my surroundings, and to my mild surprise Tamamo Cat, Stheno, and Elisabeth had tagged along with the others.

“What? Who? Nero’s uncle?” Elisabeth asked.

“He seems to be pretty ‘tangled up’,” Stheno added vaguely, eyeing Caligula with a dismissive glint in her eyes. “That’s how one deals…” I quickly tune her out, realizing that once again the Divine Spirit is going to be useless.

Caligula’s crazed eyes sweep over us. “Beautiful…You’re beautiful,” he grunts. Who is he speaking about?

“You popped out of nowhere, and now you’re hitting on girl? W-What’s with you? I know I am an attractive idol and all, but acting like a lowly beast is the worst! What kind of royalty are you?” Elisabeth said, her cheeks tinted a light pink as she shifted her stance in discomfort.

“Beautiful…Really beautiful! You are beautiful!” Caligula roars, jabbing a trembling finger at his niece. “I want to take it, lust over it, and tear it apart. Your purity, your divine beauty, everything! I want to trample all over you with my entire body!” Almost as one, we recoiled in horror at the implications of the Roman Berserker’s words.

“Disgusting…” Amadeus muttered.

“I…love…you, my beloved sister’s child—NEROOOOO!!” The Emperor of Madness howled, causing my ears to start ringing even after he falls silent, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

“…That’s right. You are a beast,” Nero finally said, sounding forlorn but determined nevertheless. “You are no longer my uncle! My uncle is dead. I still can’t stop thinking about his regrettable death. But still, if you appear before me after being lost in death, then I shall sing a requiem for you! Know it’s my duty as both your niece and as a proper emperor!” Nero said, adapting her own battle stance, before Caligula charged forward, commencing the start of yet another fight to the death.

* * *

Things were not going well.

In fact, they were going quite poorly.

With a pained grunt, Gilles landed on his back, struggling to get up. His breastplate was partially caved in, and he coughed up a small amount of blood, indicating that the blow from Caligula had wrecked some manner of internal injury to the French Servant.

“Gilles!” Jeanne cried out, dashing in to put herself between the prone Saber and the advancing Berserker. Caligula smirked sadistically before suddenly reaching out and grabbing the Ruler by her long, thick ponytail, twisting his body slightly and sending the French blonde flying into Medea and Chiron, knocking the two off of their feet. In a single action, the Roman Berserker had knocked out _three_ Servants.

“Jeanne!” Marie called out, charging down astride her glass horse with a surprisingly-fearsome glare on her cherubic face. Caligula tilted his head for the briefest of moments, as if taking in the sight of the Rider’s mount, before suddenly tensing his upper body. My eyes widen as I realized that he was chambering up for a strike, but by the time I manage to open my mouth it was too late.

“Yah!” The Berserker roared, slamming a fist into the ‘chest’ of the horse, a wave of sand flying out from under him. Instantly the horse began to display rapidly-widening cracks all over, and with a cry of alarm and dismay, Marie fell onto the sand, surrounded by the shattered remains of her mount.

While she could resummon it after having time to recover, she was still vulnerable. Crying out her name, Amadeus rushed over and, with a surprising display of strength, began dragging her away. To my initial confusion, the Emperor of Madness merely watched with yet another cruel smirk.

“What is he doing?” Ritsuka asked aloud, voicing the very question I was thinking. Then it hit me.

“He’s savoring the pain he’s inflicting…” I said in a mixture of horror and disgust. Surprisingly, despite his reputation in the present-day of being a cruel, insane sadist, very little first-hand accounts were currently known to exist. Those that had been made were lost in the centuries after Caligula’s assassination, and what we do know came from essentially second-hand sources. Still, it was one thing to read about the supposed actions and behavior of a man from long ago, another thing entirely to witness it first-hand as he tore his way through the ranks of the Heroic Spirits Ritsuka and I both proudly called friends.

“Let me fight,” Nero pleaded, even as a reluctant Mash politely yet firmly gripped her shoulder, keeping the brave, if self-centered, Emperor of Roses still. “This isn’t right!” Unbidden, at the start of the encounter, the defensive-oriented Demi-Servant had held Nero back as our own Servants had surged forth int heir own charge.

“Your Majesty, your survival is of the utmost importance. Furthermore, as a praetor courtesy of your good-will, there is a duty to ensure your safety,” I said, gritting my teeth as I watched the two remaining Servants circle the Berserker. My anger towards Stheno’s antics, who along with Elisabeth and that Tamamo Cat Servant were staying back, was further fanned. Sasaki watched from the sidelines as Chulainn charged in with an angry glare, lips curled back in a feral sneer. Though the Assassin was no longer poisoned, neither had he recovered enough to fight, which left yet another Servant out of the fight.

If it wasn’t for that thing with the cave, our Servants wouldn’t be struggling against a single Berserker. Instead, with the majority of them still exhausted to various degrees, the fight was more even against the relatively fresh Caligula, thus making it surprisingly even despite the disparity in numbers.

Caligula cackled widely as he sidestepped Gàe Bolg. His right hand grabs the shaft of the cursed weapon right below the last set of barbs, and yanks a startled Chulainn closer to him as the Emperor of Madness’s left hand curled into a fist. Delivering a bone-shattering upper cut, the Berserker sent Ritsuka’s Lancer flying back over the beach, and the Irish Servant landed with a dull, sickening _thud_. While the blue-garbed Lancer wasn’t dead, he too was out of the fight

Now all that stood between Caligula and us was a very pissed-off Mordred.

Under normal circumstances, I would have barely been worried about the outcome. But this was anything but, and as it turns out, not even my powerful partner held the upper hand, as she surged forward.

A wave of energy flowed over Caligula as he groaned slightly. I saw his muscles somehow managing to bulge even further, almost ridiculously so. A special ability perhaps? Then my eyes widen as I realize the possible danger.

“Mordred! Fall back!” I cried out frantically, drawing my sword out, the naked steel ringing as the dying rays of sunlight danced off of the blade. “Get back here right now!” It’s another goddamn trap!

Mordred didn’t respond, but I could see her slowing down, trying to shift her angle of attack when suddenly Caligula sprang forward and was upon her.

One arm grabbed her wrist, while the other grabbed the throat of a startled Mordred. “Die now!” Caligula snarled, a cruel sneer on his face as he began to squeeze my Servant’s throat while lifting the lightweight Saber off of her feet.

Mordred’s feet kicked frantically as she gagged for air, trying to score a hit on her foe. The Emperor of Madness didn’t even react to the blows that did manage to connect, instead staring sadistically into her eyes. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I saw that none of the other Servants were able to help.

If nothing is done….

Mordred could die….

My vision turned red, as a wave of anger and desperation overwhelmed my senses. My Magic Circuits flicked on, and my body began pumping prana throughout my body, unbidden as a sense of pure rage washed over me, drowning out any thoughts other than to attack and assist. I feel my lips curl and I bare my teeth, a rumbling sound building in my teeth.

“LET MY PARTNER GO YOU BASTARD!” I roared, holding my sword aloft as I charged froward. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nero sprinting besides me, her lips sealed in a determined frown as she readied her own sword.

The Emperor of Madness didn’t notice the approach of either of us, engrossed as he was in playing with his victim. The word felt vile. This needed to stop. My fingers squeezed the leather-bound hilt of my sword, my knuckles snow-white as I closed the distance, and with a mighty howl of anger, swung the sword at the Berserker.

To my mild surprise, my blade managed to sink itself partially through the muscles of the arm choking my blonde partner. Whatever he did seems to have increased his strength, but at the apparent cost of weakening his body’s resilience. A wave of hysterical triumph ran over my body as my brain kicked itself into overdrive, I first try to push the blade down, seeing if I could perhaps temporary sever any nerve connections. The blade barely budges, and I then try pulling it out when I feel the body next to me shifting slightly.

“Huh?” Caligula grunted, looking at me, then my sword, then back at me in a mixture of surprise and confusion

“…the…hell…Master?” Mordred groaned, somehow managing to shoot me a fearsome glare that threatened a haranguing tirade after this. As long as there is an after, I can live with that.

“I said drop her,” I said, forcing myself to sound braver than I felt as I gazed up at the Emperor of Madness. Caligula didn’t comply, shockingly enough. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed. His laughter was cut short, however, when a slash from Nero left a gash over his right cheek. A follow-up kick of her right sabaton-stiletto combination footwear to the back of his knee brought the Berserker down to one knee, and I saw his grip loosen.

Sensing my chance as Caligula swung his head to glare at his defiant niece, and I tried to pull Mordred out of his hands. After a few hurried tugs, I managed to do so, and began dragging the cursing and coughing Saber back from the battle as Nero spun out of the way of a hammer strike from her uncle.

“Jacob!” Ritsuka called up, his feet skidding in the sand, Mash close behind him. I stared at the Demi-Servant with hardened eyes.

“Mash, on me! Ritsuka, get Mordred back with the others. No time to argue, just do it!” I said, trying to sound as much like an officer as I could in this moment. Mash nods reflectively.

“Understood, Jacob Senpai!”

“Don’t die,” Ritsuka grunted, as he tried to pull a protesting Mordred back. She was probably going to challenge me to a spar and utterly demolish me, but at least she is alive.

Now to keep everyone else alive. I could see that some of the less injured Servants, like Jeanne, were starting to come too, but there wasn’t enough time to wait, as Nero was slowly forced back towards the ocean’s edge. A few more steps, and she won’t have anywhere to move….

Oh….that could work.”

“Mash, engage the Berserker. Keep him towards the ocean while I fill Nero in our plan. Use your shield to tank his blows, and keep your guard up,” I hurriedly instructed the pink-haired girl. Though she looks at me in mild confusion, no doubt regarding the ‘plan’ that I haven’t really told her about, she nods dutifully.

“Understood. Engaging the enemy!” She said as she jumped forward with a loud grunt. Having heard her, the Emperor of Madness turned away from a tired-looking Emperor of Roses, his red eyes widening at the rapidly-approaching mass of steel that was Mash’s weapon.

His angry roar was thankfully silenced as I barely managed to hear the sound of bone breaking as the boss of Mash’s shield smashes Caligula’s nose. The Berserker stumbles backward, and I rush over to Nero, who was taking a moment to catch her breath.

“Praetor. Do you have a plan?”

“A long-shot, but I think that this is a case of ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’,” I said. Mash grunts loudly as Caligula slams both of his fists into her shield, but despite the amount of sand kicked up by the impact, the Shielder holds firm, forcing her bodyweight against her weapon. “Mash and I are going to try to pin him down, and keep him in one spot. When that happens, you swoop in for the kill. Are you in agreement with this?”

“Not like we have any alternatives, do we?” Nero replied with a surprising display of sarcasm. If it weren’t for the circumstances we were in, I would probably be laughing at her retort. Instead, I nod grimly.

“Very well. Stand by, then,” I said, extending a hand as another shove from Mash’s shield sent the Berserker stumbling closer and closer to the water’s edge. “Come on, Mash, just a little more,” I mutter, readying myself to use my magecraft.

Sure enough, the dependable Demi-Servant gave a mighty heave, and Caligula stumbled back slightly, splashing some sea water into the air as the water reached his ankles. I quickly closed my eyes, and imagined the water around his ankles turning into solid ices.

I open them when I hear a loud yelp of alarm, which was cut short as Mash clumsily backhanded Caligula with her shield, disorienting the trapped Servant.

“Now, Your Majesty!” Mash urged as she leapt back from a dazed Caligula. Nero didn’t respond, readying her sword before charging forward, her legs moving almost supernaturally fast as she let forth a mighty battle cry. Shaking his head, her uncle appeared to have noticed the oncoming attack, but to my surprise, Caligula didn’t react. Instead, he spread out his arms, almost as if he was accepting the (hopefully) mortal blow Nero was about to deliver.

I braced myself, readying a trembling hand to summon a large spike of ice to burst forth from the water’s edge to try and impale the weakened Berserker, but apparently the Emperor of Madness had no tricks up his sleeves this time, as the all-too-familiar sound of metal tearing into flesh echoed over the beach.

“Forgive me, my uncle,” Nero said sadly, her sword buried in the chest of the Berserker. Instead of a furious look, Caligula almost looked happy. The redness that had obscured his eyes, a sign of the burning madness that each Berserker Servant bore, was gone. Instead, I could see green eyes filled with love and warmth, a shade almost identical to Nero’s as he opened his mouth.

“Nero…Nero…my beautiful niece,” Caligula said, reaching out a shaky hand as the madness faded from his eyes. I tensed, preparing to run over and push Nero out of his grasp, but the defeated Berserker merely cupped one of the tear-stained cheeks of the Emperor of Roses, using his thumb to gently wipe away her tears. “You are so…very beautiful….burn brightly….my beloved Nero,” Caligula said as he closed his eyes, his body dissolving at last.

We all tensed, prepared for some sort of ambush, but none came. The only one who was at ease of any sort, and I used the phrase very loosely, was Nero, who was staring rather blankly into he space that had just been occupied by the Berserker.

“Uncle…” Nero whispered aloud, her voice choked with various emotions before she stiffened, spinning around on the back of her heels to face us. Her eyes were dry, though the vague traces of her tears could still be seen as she addressed us in a surprisingly steady tone. “I’ve defeated the enemy commander, Caligula. I ‘ve slaughtered yet another pretender to my throne! What a splendid job. Thank you, everyone.”

I grunted in acknowledgement of the Emperor of Roses’ thanks, my mind preoccupied with a more personal matter as I could faintly hear Ritsuka inquiring about the emotional state of the blonde Roman. Paying no heed to the conversation, I whirled around on my heels to look at the one person whose health I was most concerned about at that moment.

“Mordred, are you okay?” I asked frantically, as the blonde knight wheezed, having dismissed her armor for once in order to better massage her throat. I could see bright red marks where Caligula’s fingernails had dug into her skin as he tried to throttle my Saber.

“I…I’ve taken worse,” she managed to say, her voice sounding raspy as she tried to stand up. Seeing her stumble slightly, I stepped forward with the intent of pressing down on her shoulder, bare though it may be, to keep her sitting, but the stubborn blonde pushed herself up onto her feet, suddenly glaring up at me.

She had a frustrated expression on her face. I could tell that her pride was injured. Mordred wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed having to be rescued, and she seemed to be feeling somewhat humiliated. “It’s not your fault, what happened towards the end,” I said softly. The knight glared at me, but I didn’t shrink. “You had just defeated a freaking chimera. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had the advantage of being fresh, you would have kicked that Berserker’s ass.”

“Well, yeah,” Mordred blustered, rolling her eyes slightly before glaring at me again. “But don’t you dare do something stupid like that again! What were you thinking, trying to fight an enemy Servant who would have had no hesitation to crush you like an insect?” She hissed angrily.

“I was thinking that I didn’t want to let my partner die.”

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, if you and Ritsuka die, we _all_ die. Permanently.”

“You don’t think I realize that fact? I have my family to save, but damn it, an Aronson doesn’t let those he or she cares about die as long as they can do something!” I said, glaring down at the shorter blonde.

“Jacob. Mordred.”

“Yes?” I asked, sounding a bit irritable, but still trying to be polite, while Mordred merely scoffed, her scowl growing.

“Are you guys okay?” Jeanne d’Arc asked nervously. Finally Mordred growled, spinning around and scoffing loudly.

“I need some space from this idiot. You can deal with him, Ruler,” Mordred said angrily, stomping off and enveloping her head once more as she moved over to the nearby forest. I wanted to call out her name and ask her to stay, but despite my open mouth, no words came out until she was too far.

“That was stupid of me,” I groaned once I saw that Knight of Rebellion was out of hearing range. I slump to the ground, the anger and adrenaline that had long become the sole source of strength in my limbs fading away. I saw that Jeanne was crouching down, adjusting herself to sit opposite of me. She stared at me with her turquoise eyes filled with concern and understanding.

“Perhaps,” the Maid of Orléans agreed with a soft smile. “I don’t think, however, that you were in the wrong. Nor was she. How much has she told you about the Greater Holy Grail War?”

I shrugged. “Bits and pieces, but nothing much beyond the identities and roles of a few Servants,” Is aid, remembering the cagey look the blonde knight had when I had asked her about the topic. Jeanne hummed softly, staying silent for a long minute before speaking.

“From what I gathered, it seemed that Mordred and her Master at the time were very close. Not unlike how she is with you, in a way. I never saw him in action, or really even met him in person, but he also was a fighter, like you.” I could tell that this wasn’t about to have a happy ending, the story I was hearing.

“He didn’t make it, did he?” I asked softly. Jeanne shook her head sadly.

“He was mortally wounded helping Mordred defeat Assassin of Red.”

Another moment of silence stretched on at that point, and I hadn’t failed to notice how everyone was keeping away from Jeanne and I, an action I appreciated deeply. I planted my head into my hand, frustration and self-disgust warring for dominance inside my gut.

“Now I feel like I really fucked up,” I groaned into my palm. To my confusion, Jeanne’s response was a controlled giggle that had me looking up at her with a quirked eyebrow. “I thought you would be reprimanding me for my language, Little Miss Saint,” I said dryly, quirking an eyebrow at a clearly-amused Jeanne. “Mind filling me in on whatever it is that you find funny?”

“Marie must be rubbing off on me in some ways, I suppose,” the ponytailed Servant said breezily, before a slightly more serious expression graced her features. “Again, maybe you did mess up _some_ , but I think that it’s not as bad as you are thinking. Just give Mordred some space tonight, and apologize to her in the morning,” the Ruler suggested.

“You think that would actually work?” I asked cautiously, and Jeanne smiled at me rather mischievously. She was right, Marie was rubbing off on her.

“Oh, I have a feeling that she won’t be quite so mad come morning. If needs be, I can be there, ready to assist,” Jeanne offered. I nodded, feeling some strength returning to my tired body.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I grunted, pushing myself back up onto my feet. Jeanne gave me another soft smile, and gently gripped my shoulder. I felt glad to have the Ruler as one of my Servants. She was, in some ways, a foil to some of Mordred’s more…wild tendencies, and for some reason she felt like an older sister. Perhaps a side-effect from having to grow up pre-maturely?

Whatever the cause, I was grateful for being aided by her once again, and I forced my concerns and anxiety about the Servant who I felt closest too for the moment. The matter was between me and Mordred, and Ritsuka and the others shouldn’t be dragged into it.

“You can stop looking at me like I’m going to rip someone’s head off,” I said dryly, and Ritsuka laughed nervously even as I saw him relax. “Your Majesty, are you ok?” I asked, swinging my head to look at a somewhat-distraught Nero. Despite her words, I had little doubt that the simple fact that she had to fight, and ultimately kill, her uncle must weight heavily on her mind. Plus, I needed to distract myself from my argument with Mordred.

“Just like Ritsuka, you are very kind. As I told your comrade, however, there is no need to worry. After all, I _am_ the emperor of Rome. The two of you, along with your own companions, have saved my life so many times in such a little amount of time since we first met,” Nero said, looking bashful for once. Though this was another one of those moments where I would never dare comment on it aloud, it made the petite yet busty blonde Roman look adorable. “I can assure you both that the reward for the defeat of the United Empire shall be grand. I won’t send a monster and say, ‘Here, it’s your reward’,” Nero said, glaring subtly at Stheno, who blinked in confusion.

“Are you talking to me?” She said, actually sounding taken aback as he rested a palm against her chest. “You, not a Servant, but a mere human?” The air grew tense, as Mash readied her shield nervously. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, Stheno giggled softly, an amused smile present as she stared at Nero with keen interest. “The queen of this era seems to be brave. You might actually be a proper hero. Oh, how I wish you were a man.”

“No, I am not a queen or a hero. Listen well, I am the Fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire!”

“Yes, of course, that’s what I shall call you. The Fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire. As a special gift, I’ll give you a real goddess’ blessing. Be at ease, for this time it won’t be a monster, but something of actual value. Consider it also my thanks for taking out a Servant who wasn’t a hero. Your enemy, this so-called ‘United Empire’, and the gathering ground for their ‘emperors’, their capital. I shall tell you its exact location. But that can wait until morning. You may spend the night here in safety, to rest and recover,” Stheno finished with a grand sweep of her delicate arms.

Ritsuka turned to Nero and I. “What do you guys think?”

“Having the chance to rest sooner, rather than later, would be most ideal,” Nero admitted, still eyeing the smiling gorgon with a healthy dose of suspicion. “What do you say, praetor? Your judgment on the cave earlier turned out to have been accurate, but we paid the price for not truly considering it. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

“I say we stay the night here,” I said, albeit a bit reluctantly. I would love nothing more than to put as much distance between Stheno and us, but our vessel isn’t designed to be anchored in the ocean overnight. Furthermore, almost all of our Servants were either injured, exhausted, or both.

To push on to Rome would be foolhardy. “I concur,” Ritsuka said softly.

“As much as I would love to be back in my beloved city, it would be a better idea to wait until morning to resume,” Nero added reluctantly, finally looking away from the Divine Spirit.

The decision made, I turned around to notice Jeanne walking off in the direction that Mordred had stormed off to. _What are you planning, Jeanne?_ ’ I asked silently, before shrugging reluctantly while Mash and Doctor Roman discussed this latest turn of events, and I checked on our Servants as Marie began to use her Noble Phantasm to begin healing. Ritsuka and I had a lot to do tonight, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What do you guys think? I felt that a lot of the Servant battles had ended with there being very little overall difficulty for the ones from Chaldea, so I wanted to write one where they struggled, and this was it. Also, the skill used by Caligula was Sadistic Nature, which in game strengths Caligula's attack but lowers his defense, hence why Nero was able to kill him and Jacob injure him. Did you enjoy the fight? Ugh I feel bad for writing Mordred losing...
> 
> Also, I figured that this was a moment where I could write some more about Jacob and Mordred's views on each other, and also have Big Sister Jeanne do her 'shenanigans'. Let me know what you think, and also what you think is going to happen next chapter, if ya don't mind :)
> 
> Now, I mentioned my eardrum being ruptured. It isn't too bad, but it is still an annoyance that I am getting looked at properly on Tuesday. Therefore, the next chapter instead of being on Monday will probably be Tuesday, or at the latest Wednesday.
> 
> Now, with all that stuff out of the way, time for the question(s) of the day: Who is your favorite Christmas-themed Servant? Mine is (though I have yet to get her) Jeanne d'Arc Alter Santa Lily.
> 
> As always, thanks for the love you have all shown, and feel free to leave your thoguhts and reviews down below, or a kudo! Eagerly awaiting to read y'alls receptions, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! See you in three to five days!


	42. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred has some reflections, Jeanne does her thing, and our heroic part returns to Rome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super nervous about this chapter. Sorry if Mordred seems OOC in this section, but I hope you enjoy. Important(ish?) information at the end, so see you there and enjoy!

Damn stupid idiot Master!

Mordred repeated that mantra over and over in her head as she continued swinging her sword around almost wildly, essentially using the empty forest as a giant punching bag.

The last time someone fought alongside her, they died. The only time someone saw her as a person ended with the death of her previous Master. When she had returned to the Throne of Heroes, Mordred was resigned to the fact that she would probably never encounter another Master like Kairi.

Then she had.

And now she had to worry about that damn idiot getting himself offed. A small part of her was bitter that Kairi had died. She had enjoyed being with the necromancer. An ideal, no, a perfect Master for a Servant like her. And yet, once again, it was over way too quickly.

“That…that….idiot!” Mordred roared, hurling Clarent into the trunk of a tree, splitting the timber in half as she charged forward and picked up the sword that she had slain her father with. Spinning on the back of her heels, Mordred sliced her way through another tree, the ancient wood falling to the ground with a low groaning sound as the Knight of Rebellion continued to cut a swath of destruction.

Eventually, the English knight ran out of steam, breathing heavily as she stood amidst the carnage she had dealt to the forest.

Mordred stiffened as she heard a light pair of footsteps. It wasn’t her Master’s, but it still didn’t change the fact. “Go away,” she growled warningly, refusing to turn around as she swung Clarent through the trunk of yet another tree, somehow feeling reenergized by the presence of the saint. Or rather, by the imminent bout of aggravation she anticipated.

“Jacob was worried that he, to quote him, ‘fucked up’.” Mordred paused, the wind being taken out of her sails as she looked incredulously at Ruler. Did she actually just swear? Huh, didn’t know the seemingly-perfect saint had it in her.

Jeanne’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she scratched the back of her head a bit bashfully. “His words, not mine, but that’s not the point of what I was trying to say.” Mordred rolled her eyes, and rested Clarent against her shoulder, tapping the blade against her armor impatiently.

“Cut the shit, Ruler. I’m not in the mood to deal with your word games on the best of days, and this is far from the best of days,” the slightly shorter blonde growled warningly. To the French Servant’s credit, she didn’t look intimidated.

“I think he is worried that you are offended that he cares for you, or something,” Ruler said in a frank tone. Mordred stared at her with narrowed eyes. Well, at least this time she wasn’t insinuating something. Comrade or not, she wasn’t in the mood for that bullshit, and was ready to slam a fist into her fellow blonde’s face.

“Good. Maybe that will get him to realize that maybe he should focus on keeping himself safe,” Mordred grunted. Jeanne stared at her, and Mordred bite back a snarl at that fact that she couldn’t figure out what she was planning on saying.

“I know you care about him. We all do. But is it really worth it to leave this kind of topic untouched?” Jeanne pointed out. Mordred swung around, slamming Clarent into the ground, the sword shaking slightly from the sudden action. “I know you prefer to use your fists first, but perhaps this time, why don’t you try to sit down and talk this issue out with him?” Thankfully, or perhaps it would be more accurate to describe it as luckily for the bustier girl, she hadn’t an ounce of a condescending tone to her words.

The Knight of Rebellion tuned out Ruler, and instead mulled over the new storm of thoughts in her head. She wouldn’t kid herself: she _does_ care for Jacob. And perhaps that is the problem, especially since the rather constant new sensation she had been experiencing. It was a new thing, and it made her uncomfortable, yet at the same time it didn’t as confusing as it sounded.

It made her feel…vulnerable. Maybe that wasn’t the most accurate way to describe the sensation she felt, especially over the last week, but it was still a valid way to describe it. Mordred hated feeling vulnerable. Loathed it. Her childhood was spent feeling that sensation on a damn daily basis as she desperately thought of ways to get away from that accursed mother of hers. Still, Jacob was her partner, and she had sworn to fight alongside him, to assist him.

“I’ll speak to him in the morning,” Mordred sighed, the anger drained from her. Jeanne nodded, pleased. That should get her to leave Mordred alone, too. Damn her for making sense, and damn Jacob for making her feel this way nowadays, too. Still, she couldn’t deny that he had the uncanny talent of making her feel happy when they hung out.

* * *

_It was another memory, and yet it was different in a way from the others that I had witnessed. I was in some weird sort of throne room. There were two figures in the room, which had apparently just been a scene of fighting. One of them I recognized instantly. It was Mordred, Clarent resting against her shoulder, looking roughed up and tired, but a slight victorious smirk on her lips. She was wearing clothes almost identical to the ones she wore outside of missions back at Chaldea._

_“Master!”_

_The other figure must have been her Master, and this must be the Greater Holy Grail War that I had heard so much about in passing, but little of the facts. It was a muscular giant of a man, grizzled and wearing shades despite the bright lighting. His black leather jacket was torn, and there were numerous wounds covering his body. Fatal wounds. Despite that, in one hand he held a lit cigarette._

_“What about Assassin?” Mordred’s Master asked._

_“I destroyed her Spiritual Core,” Mordred said proudly, looking at the bloodied remnants of a metal throne. “She’s going to die pretty soon._

_“I see...we were really close,” Mordred’s Master said wryly._

_“Huh?” Mordred asked, having not apparently realized the extent of her Master’s injuries. She walked over briskly, concern on her features. “Master, what are y—” She fell silent as a look of understanding replaced the confusion as she stared down at the dying mage. “You won’t make it.”_

_“Apparently,” he said. “But, there’s still hope for you. If you make a contract with one of the Yggdmillenia siblings...” Mordred scoffed, indicating that she wouldn’t as she sat down at the base of the stairs her Master was leaning against, Clarent being dismissed._

_“This is as far as I go.”_

_“What’s with that change of mind?”_

_“You came to die,” Mordred said, shrugging. “It’s just fair,” she said with a wry grin, closing her eyes and exhaling. Opening her emerald eyes, the Knight of Rebellion stared up at the ceiling, a slight smirk still present on her lips. “So, was I a good Servant?” I wanted to say of course, but even if I could be heard, she wasn’t my Servant here. Thankfully, her current Master in this time was of a similar mindset, it seems._

_“Yeah,” the dying man said, and I wished I had known his name. “We made it this far_ because _you were my Servant.” He paused and took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling sharply before continuing. “I was lying to myself. I wasn’t looking for a successor. I just wanted to bring my daughter back.”_

_I shifted uncomfortably, realizing just how personal and intimate a moment I was intruding on, even as Mordred replied._

_“Really? I was the same. I just couldn’t see it, and now I finally understand.” Her wish for the Grail. That she could take the throne with the sole intent of easing the burden that had been placed upon King Arthur. “Father didn’t wish for gems that shined like the stars. He became king for the sake of those stones in the roadside,” she said, picking up a piece of rubble and looking at it. “That’s why I can’t see that dream about the Sword of Selection. I don’t need it anymore…”_

_“Really? You would have been a great king,” her Master said, taking another drag on his cigarette. After exhaling, he notices how the Knight of Rebellion was staring in morbid curiosity at the rolled length of tobacco. “What is it? You want one?” He asked, and Mordred grinned sly at him, leaning forward slightly._

_“Well, I never tried smoking.” Her Master gave off a weak laugh that was cut off with a shuddering cough, but he shook his head and offered a battered box, out of which was part of a cigarette sticking out._

_“Whatever, take the last one,” he said with a soft smile that belayed the gruff words. Mordred chuckled softly and gently gripped the cigarette, offering a half-hearted apology as her Master struggled to light it for her._

_Closing her eyes, Mordred took a deep breath…before suddenly spluttering and coughing as she experiences what smoking taste likes. “Master,” she wheezed, gagging slightly as she looked incredulously at the Japanese mage. “What the hell is this?”_

_He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it is a question of his own. He was almost gone, his voice becoming weak as his head hung limply. “Hey, Saber, was it fun?”_

_Mordred gave him a regarding looking before nodding softly, a warm, soft, and sincere smile on her lips that was the complete opposite of her typical fierce nature. It was adorable, almost heart-melting. “It was really fun, Master.”_

_Hearing those final words, her Master slipped away into death’s embrace, his half-gone cigarette slipping out of limp fingers to hit the ground as he sighed softly. Mordred’s smile faded, as a forlorn look overcame her features, before she finally looked away, her own cigarette dropping to the floor and rolling to a stop next to its smoldering counterpart. The tell-tale signs of a Servant returning to the Throne of Heroes began to appear, and as she fades, there was one last thought that I heard as I began to come too._

‘I bet Father’s last moments were also…’

* * *

I groaned slightly, blinking open my weary eyes as I saw that the faintest hints of crimson brighten the dawn sky. It had been so long since I last experienced another dream-memory (at least relatively speaking), but I hadn’t forgotten how much crap I felt like whenever I woke up.

I try closing my eyes, to see if I could go back to bed, but it proves futile. My mind is abuzz with thoughts and understanding. Even though Jeanne had told me about her former Master’s fate, that brief glimpse into the path felt even more illuminating.

It felt almost like a father-‘son’ bonding moment, between Mordred and the dying magus. Now, I’ve never claimed to be the best at understanding Mordred’s thought process, as I’ve mentioned on multiple occasions no doubt, but even I could make the reasonable deduction that this event had held a lasting impact on Mordred’s psyche.

The first time that someone relied on her, and saw her as an actual person, and it ended with that very person dying beside her. That would be pretty traumatic to just about anyone. No wonder she had appeared to have been on the verge of ripping me a new one last night.

“Ugh, I really was an idiot…” I groaned, giving up on trying to fall back asleep, and instead blearily pushing my body into an upright sitting position.

“Glad to see that you’ve finally realized that,” a dearly-familiar voice snarked at me from behind. My shoulders instinctively tensed, remembering just how badly the last time Mordred and I had talked. She didn’t seem to be upset, though, and I quickly relaxed.

“Better late than never. My mom liked to use that phrase,” I quipped, and Mordred scoffed in amusement as I heard her move over. The blonde Servant sat a few feet away from me cross-legged, a rather interesting feat to do in full plate armor.

“You have that haunted look again,” Mordred said. “The look that means you saw something from my past.” It was a statement, not a question, and I nodded slowly, licking my suddenly-dry lips nervously before speaking.

“Yes. I saw you and a former Master of yours having a final moment together.” Mordred’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Was it a big, scarred fellow wearing a black leather jacket?” I nodded in the affirmative, rather then reply. A tired smirk graced Mordred’s lips.

“Kairi Shishigou.”

“Pardon?”

“His name. He was a necromancer, but he was a damn fine Master,” Mordred said, a far-off look entering her eyes, perhaps reminiscing about the man in question.

“Though it wasn’t much, the two of you seemed to have quite the happy partnership,” I said cautiously, trying my best to navigate the invisible minefield we had now entered. The words I wanted to use was that Kairi had been almost fatherly in his behavior to Mordred, but I didn’t want to chance a more visceral reaction from my partner considering her past history with the matter of familial relationships. It was too early for something like this, but then again, sometimes these things were better dealt with quickly, like removing a band-aid. It might sting like hell, but only for a moment.

“Heh, you got that right. A fighter to the end, just like me,” Mordred said, sighing. The Saber looked drained and uncomfortable, a subtle reminder how unused to these things the Pendragon was. “You remind me of him, ya know?”

“Oh?” I asked, unsure of what else I should say. Mordred grunted, her emerald eyes bearing into mine with an unusual intensity even for the proud knight.

“Never shying away from putting yourself on the frontline. Taking into consideration the feelings and desires of your Servants. Treating us, _me_ , like equals, and not tools. Possessing a reckless streak, too. All things I approve of, of course,” Mordred said haughtily.

“You think I’m going to get myself killed,” I said softly. Mordred grunted, refusing to show any sign of weakness. Still, knowing the context both from Jeanne, my latest dream, and now from Mordred herself, I had a feeling that it was more for show.

“Mhm. That’s something we, your Servants, all want to prevent. Thing is, you have this tendency of making it pretty damn difficult at times,” Mordred said in a rebuking tone, and my cheeks flush slightly as I shifted my gaze slightly away from her stern eyes. Though it hadn’t been voiced before, I had the feeling that my Servants, from the reserved Sasaki to the boastful knight now telling me off (and wasn’t that something?) had their own level of anxiety.

Problem was, I didn’t feel any shred of guilt. Sure, there was some over the stress I undoubtedly burdened on the Heroic Spirits I worked alongside, but not over the actions that served as the source for said stress.

How could I look myself in the mirror without a sense of shame if I refused to share any of the risks my Servants faced? Yes, there was a limit to what was acceptable. Yes, there were already a number of risks present anyways just by being one of the two sole Masters of Chaldea. But I was a mage, third-rate though I may be, and a mage walks beside death at all times.

Still, Mordred had a point. In her own way of voicing it, the Knight of Rebellion was telling me that she was scared of watching me die, Gruff and coarse though her mannerisms were, she really was an incredible partner. A part of me also felt an unexpected surge of joy at the knowledge that Mordred cared for me in a way beyond the standards expected of a Master-Servant contract. The ones that could be considered healthy, that is. I quickly tamped down on that unnecessary reaction.

“I am sorry for putting myself in harms way,” I said carefully, pressing my tongue to the back of my teeth nervously. Mordred hummed softly, titling her head slightly.

“But you would do it again?” She asked in a neutral tone that had me stiffening slightly.

“Perhaps,” I finally admitted. “Like I said last night, I’m not the person to ignore assisting those I care about. It’s against my nature, you could say,” I said sheepishly, shrugging. Prompted by Mordred’s silence, I continued speaking hurriedly. “However, I can agree to be more careful, and involve myself in a fight between Servants only if there is no other recourse.”

Mordred’s eyes bored down into me, before a smile that was tinged with both exasperation and, if my eyes weren’t tricking me, affection. The possibility of the latter had my heart fluttering, and I felt lightheaded for the briefest of moments. “I guess that will do for now. When we get back, though, you better be ready to be put through the wringer by me and Chiron,” she said, sounding a bit too satisfied with the idea, and I instinctively gulped.

“Eh, I suppose that is fair enough,” I finally said, acknowledged the inescapable fact that I was in for a beating. Mordred threw her head backwards as a bout of hearty laughter escaped from her lips. After a few brief seconds, I started to laugh alongside her, shaking my head in mock despair as we heard the sounds of our companions starting to wake up as well. All the while, I mull on the fact that Boudica’s words might not be without merit…though whether it would come of anything is highly doubtful…

* * *

Thankfully, Nero was _not_ in command of the vessel for the second half of our return journey. Indeed, it seems that our occasional bout of good luck had returned once more, for me arrived back at the city of Rome unmolested, and with valuable information.

I still felt that it didn’t completely make up for the various near-death experiences thrown our way, but at least we hadn’t left the island empty-handed. Elisabeth and Tamamo Cat had declined Nero’s offer of joining us, saying that they would prefer to stick around with Stheno. A disappointing answer, to be sure, but perhaps a wise one at the same time. I know that Elisabeth is a useful fighter, but she’s still a handful, and if I had to continue listening to the Berserker’s cackling, _I_ might snap!

Apparently, our return had been an event the citizens of Rome had been the talk of town, or something, for the streets were chocked full of people. Men and women, young and old, everyone had gathered in massive throngs and were cheering us.

Nero, being the peacock that she was, was absolutely basking in the praise and love of her people, her smile fit to burst at any moment. Ritsuka seemed to be enjoying himself as well, though not quite as exuberantly, waving and smiling at the crowd whenever they chanted his title bestowed on him by the Emperor of Roses.

“I wonder if Father found these kinds of event wearisome,” I thought I heard Mordred mutter next to me, but when I turned my head, she said nothing, and with her helmet in place, I couldn’t make out what her expression was.

Mash looked the most uncomfortable, and when we finally arrived back at Nero’s villa, the poor Demi-Servant looked like she was on the verge of collapsing, which she actually did when we reached the dining room table and took up our seats.

Nero ran a hand across her brow, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that had been built up during the noisy walk through the streets of Rome. “Phew, at last, things have settled down,” she said cheerfully, missing the cocked eyebrow I was shooting at her as the diluted sounds of celebrations continued outside. Mash nodded, looking quite haggard.

“That was an unbelievable crowd. It was like a festival. Senpai, you got squished pretty hard, yet you didn’t seem too uncomfortable. Maybe you like that sort of thing?” She asked, looking at my fellow Master with her typical display of concern over his well-being, as well as confusion about the actions of humans. Ritsuka just shrugged lazily, smiling slightly.

“Can’t be helped if it’s a festival.” Mash hummed, nodding her head slowly.

“I see, I see. At festivals, everyone becomes friendly, right?”

“Sometimes a little _too_ friendly, but yeah, that is correct,” I interjected as my commlink went off. “Got something you would like to add, Doc?” I asked as I accepted the call.

 _“Haha,”_ he laughed, sounding quite jovial himself. _“I bet you didn’t mind it at all, Ritsuka. That’s what you call a victory wine!”_

“Ah, unseen mage, you speak as though you’ve actually tasted some,” Nero commented, a sly smirk on her lips. Oh, was she teasing the ginger?

 _“I have a vivid imagination,”_ Roman responded with another bout of laughter. _“Admittedly, that has led me into all kinds of situations.”_

“Umu! Mash, you protected us well out there. Umu, as expected of the great warrior of the shield who swore loyalty to me. It makes me like you even more!” Nero said with her usual gusto and cheer, and Mash’s cheeks flushed slightly as she rubbed the back of her head bashfully, her shyness kicking in once more.

“T-Thank you,” she stammered. “It’s nice of you to say that…” she said, though her eyes were looking towards Ritsuka, almost expectantly. My (dense) friend cocked his head in curiosity, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me?” Ritsuka asked politely, oblivious to the rather clear hint the pink-haired girl was sending.

“Y-yes…well, no. Nothing. I have nothing to say,” Mash said, trying her best to tamp down on her disappointment.

“As much as I wish that we could maintain this cheerful atmosphere, we can’t forget about the war,” I said grimly, tapping my hand at the location Stheno had told us about. Apparently, it was located just south of the Pyrenees mountain range that marked the border between the Iberian peninsula from the rest of Europe, and also appeared to be close to the location of modern-day location of Barcelona.

“Indeed,” Nero said, a more serious countenance now present. “If Caesar was telling the truth after all, we will find everything we seek there. I will send word to Boudica to martial her forces and meet us on the Iberian coastline. Meanwhile, I will muster every last soldier capable of fighting to accompany us,” the Emperor of Roses said, resting one of her palms on the corner of the table.

“You plan on launching an all-out assault, then?” I asked, and the blonde nodded. “We will surely take heavy losses, and we will be outnumbered,” I said. It might be stating the obvious, but I rather be the one who sounds silly but brings up the important facts, then keep quiet and risk someone overlooking them, no matter how unlikely that might be.

“Fortune favors the bold. That was the concept Caesar had in mind when he declared to his legions that the die had been cast along the banks of the Rubicon, and with them came the beginning of my empire. The gods be willing, those words will see to the continued survival of my empire,” Nero said firmly, before her gaze softened minutely. “Ritsuka, Jacob. As my viceroy and praetor, I trust that you will join me once more?”

“An Aronson does not betray his friends and allies,” I said, quoting one of the lines my father and grandfather had said on countless occasions, until the mantra had become second-nature.

“Certainty of death? Small chance of success? What are we waiting for?” Ritsuka said with a lopsided smile. I felt my jaw drop slightly as I stared at my friend.

“So, you’re a fan of the movies as well, I see,” I finally said, to which my fellow Master shrugged with a cheeky smile. Nero was now beaming once again.

“Umu! It’s settled then. We will march in three days!”

The stage was now set for the final confrontation for the future of the Roman Empire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! We're approaching the final section of the Second Singularity! What did you guys think? Enjoy seeing Mordred and Jacob possibly moving even closer to finally becoming a couple? :) 
> 
> Now, I am planning on streamlining the events, meaning no Alexander, Jing Ke, or Lui Bui. Mainly because I feel that they were put in more for filler than for actual story plot stuff. They will appear in this story, however. Overall, I'm just kinda done with Rome, and wanna wrap it up in a tidy way that doesn't affect the quality, ya know? Hope no one will be angry at me for that, though if so oh well I suppose
> 
> Eardrum wasn't ruptured, so all is good in that regard FYI :)
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Who do you think will make the first romantic move: Jacob or Mordred? Same question for the second, but different pair: Will Mash or Ritsuka make the first move?
> 
> As always, thank you guys tons and tons for the support, love, and all that sappy stuff. It's a pleasure to write this story, and an equal pleasure to see how much people are enjoying my work. Eagerly looking forward to reading what you guys and gals thought of this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will probably come out on Saturday, so I will see you guys then!


	43. Attack the United Empire, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company prepare for the final battle, Mash has some reflections, and our beloved heroes encounter their first obstacle to victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it has begun. LOL
> 
> So this chapter, as well as the next one, will have a number of timeskips, but anyways, enjoy!

“What are you working on?” Ritsuka’s words had me looking up from the maps I had been pouring over with Jeanne and Gilles, and saw that my fellow Master was looking over Mash’s shoulder. On her other shoulder was Fou, who chirped excitedly. My own curiosity piqued, I excused myself and began walking over, just as I heard Mash beginning to answer her senpai’s (god that is still weird to say or think for me) question.

“Well….Senpai, Fou, to tell you the truth…Doctor Roman asked me to keep a journal, like a military record of sorts,” the Demi-Servant said shyly, looking away.

“Why?” As if to speak of the devil, Mash’s commlink went off. Ah, so Roman had been listening in, had he? Well, at least Ritsuka can now get the answers he desired from the man himself.

 _“That’s right, I did ask her to do so. Why, you ask? To take advantage of the fact that you became a Roman Viceroy, and Jacob a praetor! What do you think about ‘_ Novus Commentarii de Bello Gallico _’? This title would be a homage to the book written by Caesar about his own exploits in Gaul,”_ Roman said with his typical level of energy and enthusiasm. _“Sounds interesting, right? Though, you do have to cover the part where a god showed up…”_

“Are you planning on publishing this, Doc?” I asked, raising an eyebrow despite the fact that I couldn’t see him.

_“Ah. I suppose you have a point. Well then, let’s talk about something serious?”_

“You? Serious?” I asked dryly, with a teasing lilt to my voice that had the lounging Mordred cackle slightly, and I could see the meditating Sasaki crack the barest of smiles as Roman spluttered indignantly. “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

_“Let’s assume you guys could save the world. However, I have been thinking on what would come afterwards. Even if the world is saved, the tragedy of Chaldea will never be reserved. In other words, there’s no guarantee for our salary. You understand what I’m saying, right?”_

Ritsuka and I shared the flattest of expressions. “Well, good thing that is more of a matter for you to deal with, _acting-director_ ,” I said, adding extra emphasis on his voice, before turning around and walking back over to Gilles and Jeanne. A part of me was unsure if the doctor was trying to ease the anxiety of tomorrow, or if he was being serious. My money was on a combination of both, personally.

“Doctor Roman always seems to have something unexpected to say,” Jeanne commented upon my return with a smile, and I rolled my eyes playfully at my Servant. Gilles gave off a polite cough, and I turned to look at him.

“If we may continue?” The Saber asked politely, and I tilted my head slightly in the affirmative. “Good. Now, as I was saying, when we arrive, no matter what time that may be, we must disembark the troops immediately. While it was before my time, the tragedy that befall our kingdom at Sluys mustn’t be repeated. If we stay off-shore and rest on the vessels overnight, we will only be further divided.”

“It will probably take a day or two to get there by vessel. Especially if we are indeed stopping by the Gaelic coast to rendezvous with the fleet carrying Boudica, Spartacus, and their soldiers before reaching Spain,” I said. “Perhaps it would be better to make camp there, and leave at dawn? I rather avoid resting deep in the heart of the enemy,” I added.

“It does seem like a most prudent plan,” Jeanne interjected. “I suppose that’s the last of anything we could talk about in regards to planning for this campaign.” I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. I had taken off my hat today, and it was resting on the corner of the table. Come tomorrow morning, Nero’s preparations would be completed, and we would be marching off for the final battle between the true Roman Empire and the United Empire.

Nero and her generals may have the advantage of knowing their soldiers and the tactic they used best by heart, but with the Servants accompanying Ritsuka and I, plus the occasional helpful tip from Roman, we had centuries of knowledge, both of the past, and what Nero would regard as the future.

“Praetor! Viceroy!” Ah, speak of yet another devil. The Emperor of Roses strode into the library we were using with her usual swagger. I could hear Mordred’s groans of annoyance, also a hallmark of Nero showing up in the same room as the Knight of Rebellion. Whether she heard it or not, Nero didn’t react, heading my way as I sensed rather than saw Ritsuka walking over to my side. I cocked my head slightly, noticing how the blonde was holding her arms behind her back, as if she was holding something that she was hiding.

Unless she had somehow managed to find the world’s smallest chimera, I highly doubt we were in any danger. I bowed my head slightly. “Good evening, Your Majesty. How fares the final preparations?”

“Very well! Boudica sent word that she will meet us at the rendezvous point tomorrow. After that….well, I doubt that needs to be said,” Nero said with a laugh, though I couldn’t help but feel like I could detect just the faintest hint of anxiety in the extravagant ruler’s voice. I didn’t comment on it, however.

“That is excellent,” I said instead, before tilting my head towards Gilles and Jeanne. “The three of us had just finished discussing any potential complications we might encounter. If it suits you, I was planning on filling you in after supper,” I said, and Nero beamed brightly.

“Umu! That is, as you said, most excellent! Speaking of dinner, I have a feast of sorts planned tonight. Maybe it is premature of me, but I want to celebrate the end of this war.” I mentally shrugged. Nero is as Nero does. Besides, she does have a point. Win or lose, this was probably the last time she would see us without any fighting occurring around us. I had a feeling that she knew that, and wanted to give an early good-bye of some sort, perhaps.

Either way, it would be churlish to disagree, as well as pointless. “That sounds like an excellent idea,” Ritsuka said, voicing aloud my own conclusion. Nero nodded her head up and down, the strand of hair that was always sticking up at the front of her head bouncing frantically, along with some of her other, ahem, assets.

“It’s good that you are both here,” Nero said, arms still behind her back. “I have promised to reward the two of you, all of you, really, for all of your efforts. However, as much as it pains me, I haven’t been able to show that my words aren’t hollow.”

“Huh?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow as I stared at Nero with confusion, a similar expression on Ritsuka’s face as well. I mean sure, Doctor Roman and even Ritsuka had joked about the ‘rewards’ we would get after we retrieved the Grail, but we all knew that they wouldn’t last long, not after putting an end to this singularity.

“Your Majesty, it’s not—”

“An emperor who doesn’t reward neither service nor loyalty is a fool. Even if it doesn’t matter for you, it still matters to me. It matters both to my pride, and as my role as emperor. Therefore, Ritsuka, Jacob, I bid the two of you to accept these,” Nero said solemnly, moving her arms slowly, and my eyes widened in surprise at what she had been holding.

In each hand was a sheathed dagger. A _pugio_ , I believe was the name for Roman daggers. Each scabbard was richly decorated, with a gilded plate in the center that bore an artistic rendition of a rose in full bloom.

“I had these made by the same blacksmith who made my own blade,” Nero said proudly, as Ritsuka and I carefully gripped the offered weapons. “Go on, take a look,” she urged with a wide smile. Nodding in reply, I gently gripped the leather-bounded hilt and pulled backwards, curious myself to see what the blade I had been given looked like.

It was amazing. A combination of both art and weaponry. The dagger was about a foot long, and the blade was of a leaf-shaped design, making it excellent for hacking and slashing attacks, in addition to the stereotypical stabbing and thrusting attacks one associated with daggers and knives. The steel seemed to be of high-quality, matching the craftsmanship of its protective scabbard, and I raised an eye in admiration at the words that had been inscribed on the spine of the blade. On one side was my name, while on the other was the rank Nero had given me.

Adjusting my grip, I mimed an attack slightly, and nodded with a slight smile in approval as I found the balance of the _pugio_ to be most excellent. Sheathing the dagger, I bowed slightly.

“This truly is a kingly gift, Emperor Nero. Thank you,” I said sincerely, and when I straightened back up, I could see that Nero’s wide smile had somehow managed to broaden itself.

“Umu! Now, the two of you can look the part of officials of the empire!” Nero said proudly, puffing out her chest, hands on her hips. Noticing out of the corner of my eye Ritsuka’s uncertainty as he fidgeted with his (thankfully) still-sheathed dagger, I turn towards him.

“After dinner, Rits, I’ll show you how to attach it to your belt,” I said softly, and Rits shot me a look of gratitude. As for learning how to fight with it? Well, that’ll have to be done another time. Aside from Assassin-class Servants or if one was in a brawl, using a knife as your primary weapon in a fight was highly inadvisable.

Besides, I still have to teach my fellow Master how to fight with a sword first.

I turn back to Nero. “Once again, thank you for this gift. I have the utmost faith that they will serve Ritsuka and I well. It has been an honor to work alongside you, Emperor Nero,” I said, meaning every word. For all of her rather aggravating mannerisms, and her bombastic personality, the blonde had a good heart. It made me wonder just what had occurred to have given Nero her infamous legacy.

The Emperor of Roses blushed slightly, a rare sign of humility indeed. Gracefully recovering from it, she nodded her head once more. “Umu! Now, come, let us feast!”

* * *

Mash took a tentative bite out of the roasted fish, savoring the exquisite flavor her tongue experienced as she chewed. It was truly different from the food she grew up eating back in Chaldea, a fact that Doctor Roman was still sore over.

A part of her felt dejected over the fact that only now, so late into her existence, was she now able to experience the things that only weeks before had seemed to be achievable only in her dreams. Still, as she had heard Jacob once say, it was better late than never, and much like those starry nights from France, she would treasure these moments with however much time she had left. She still felt a tinge of guilt about keeping it a secret, even though Doctor Roman had told her that it was her secret to share whenever she felt ready.

It gnawed at her, failing to muster up the courage to tell her friends the truth, but she knew they both had so much on their plate right now already. What use would there be in adding something else to it, especially something that couldn’t be prevented?

A loud burst of laughter further down the table had the Demi-Servant shooting a furtive expression towards Chulainn, who thumped a fist lightly against the table as he shook his head. Across from him, Chiron stared at the Irish Lancer with a raised eyebrow, before continuing to speak.

Closer by, though still inaudible to her, Marie and Jeanne were deep in conversations, their eyes occasionally flicking towards Jacob Senpai and Mordred, neither of whom seemed to be noticing the two French Servants. Marie had that look on her face that Mash now recognized was her planning expression. While whatever the Flower of Versailles was brainstorming would prove harmless, Mash was willing to bet her non-existent salary that it had some manner of mischief involved.

Her gaze then swept back towards the other side of the table, or rather, to the one sitting next to her. Though it had been several days since it happened, Mash still felt a tinge of annoyance at the surprising amount of denseness her senpai possessed at times. She really enjoyed the warm, tingling sensation that ran through her body whenever Ritsuka complimented her. The way her heart fluttered slightly when he gave her one of those earnest smiles.

Ritsuka really was different from almost everyone else she had encountered throughout the years at Chaldea. He felt…human. Jacob Senpai also, of course, but Ritsuka had been the first one she had met. As Jacob was close the boisterous knight, so too was Mash to Ritsuka.

However, a small, treacherous part of her mind longed for something more. Before she realized it, her cheeks were growing warmer, and her senpai was suddenly looking at her.

“Is everything okay, Mash?” Ritsuka asked, staring at her wide naked concern. “You’re turning a bit red,” he said quietly, though by now she had noticed that while all the various conversations that had been ongoing hadn’t stopped, almost everyone was shooting her furtive glances. She resisted the urge to whimper slightly in embarrassment, wishing the floor could swallow her up or something, and spare her from this.

“A-Ah, no, everything is fine, Master,” She said clumsily. Ritsuka looked at her skeptically for a moment, before slowly nodding his head and relaxed, reclining back in his seat once more as he listened to another one of Nero’s grandiose tales. Mash sighed inside her head as she forced herself to resume one of the serene masks she had long practiced in her room while being observed back at Chaldea.

That was the kind of person her senpai was. Kind, caring, and observant in the field. Sometimes dense, but always willing to help without a second thought.

So, why couldn’t he notice her in the way she wanted?

* * *

Morning had come with very little fanfare. It was an atmosphere filled with nervous energy, and in a way that made me feel kinda silly, I felt like the world was holding its breath in anticipation for what the next few days would bring. Even Mordred felt a little subdued, a little more serious than she normally was.

Only slightly, however.

For however much each of us felt the inescapable pre-battle jitters, there was also a surge of excitement, of the knowledge that the Grail was within our grasps. I refused to acknowledge the possibility of defeat back in France, and I would do the same here.

And if Lev was indeed here? Well, so much the better.

I was pulled off of my train of thought by Nero, as she spoke with her typical vigor and level of noise as the others and I stood behind her silently, all ready for battle. My hands rested on the pommels of my sword and my newly-gifted dagger as I stared at the emperor’s back as she addressed the men before her.

“Today, we march on the viper’s nest to cut off the heads of the last of these vile pretenders!”

Her words elicited a massive roar of approval, and her name was chanted by ten thousand voices. She stood on the Rostra, the large platform decorated by a total of six rams made of bronze that had come from warships that had fought against Rome centuries ago. In front of the famed structure that had long been and would be used for delivering rousing speeches were almost ten thousand Roman legionaries and supporting auxiliaries, a number of whom were archers that Chiron had spent the past few days training.

Every pair of eyes stared at the Emperor of Roses, enraptured by her speech as they dutifully responded to unspoken prompts.

“Yes, I share your eagerness! For too long have these invaders desecrated that which belongs to us. For too long have they killed our citizens. How many families lie below the ground because of these snakes?” A furious roar filled the square, and Nero raised her hands, restoring order. “Yes, far too many! Now, though, it is their turn to suffer. It is their turn to watch us march on their lands, and lay waste as we go. Unlike these pretenders, however, we won’t fail!”

“She’s got quite the pair of lungs, doesn’t she?” Mordred whispered dryly to me, and I fought back the snort of amusement her words elicited, instead politely shushing her.

“I am proud to have such valiant warriors willing to accompany me! Together, we will end this insurrection, and restore peace, and return our empire to its proper glory once more!”

“Nero, Nero, Nero!” The mass of soldiers began chanting, and the individual in question raised her arms slightly, basking in the adoration of her subjects.

“For Rome!”

* * *

It had been several hours since Nero finished her rather inspiring speech, and we were slowly making our way to the coast, where Nero’s warships were waiting for our arrival. The sun was bright, and nary a cloud was in sight. A light breeze caressed us as we walked, cooling us as we marched through the burnt, desolate landscape, a poignant reminder of both the threat of United Empire for Nero’s followers, and of the devastation wrought by Jeanne Alter’s wyverns in France.

There was something else, though. A sensation of danger of some sort borne aloft by the wind. I shivered slightly, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something was watching us. Sizing us up, hidden from our own eyes. I felt a nudge to my right side, and swivel my head to look towards Mordred. With her helmet retracted, I could see the concern in her eyes.

“You look troubled,” she commented quietly yet gruffly, and I nodded once.

“Yes. Something doesn’t feel right,” I replied. The Knight of Rebellion grunted in agreement.

“Thought it was just me. We’re not alone out here.” While they could be allies, or just faithful citizens who were unable to fight for their beloved emperor, why would they stay hidden? I turned to Nero, clearing my throat to get her attention.

“Your Majes—” I started to say, before a javelin whistled through the air, and slammed into the chest of Nero’s horse. The mare collapsed with a horrific shriek of pain, thrashing in the dust as Nero leapt clear of the dying animal. The Emperor of Roses looked to be unhurt, but there was no time to be thankful for that, as I began to hear the sounds of more objects whistling through the air towards us.

“Defensive formations!” I called out, as several soldiers fell either screaming in pain, or worse, silently.

“I thought the enemy had been driven out! Where are my scouts?!?” Nero roared angrily, pulling out her sword as a wave of about a hundred soldiers

 _“The scouts must have been discovered and killed,”_ Doctor Roman said grimly. “ _We might be dealing with an elite battalion.”_

“Let them come! They will be crushed,” Nero sneered angrily, turning to the lead soldiers behind us. “Archers, return fire!” The commander of the archer corps smartly saluted her in response, before turning to his own, barking out orders, and soon, a small cloud of arrows was raining down on the charging unit.

To my surprise, the enemy soldiers didn’t slow down, nor did they do much in the way of trying to protect themselves from the oncoming wave of iron-tipped death. Had these soldiers gone mad or something? Perhaps, but apparently, it wasn’t the actual reason, as to my shock, only a handful of soldiers had gone down.

“What the devil?” Gilles said harshly, pulling his sword out of its silver scabbard. His eyes were narrowed as he glared as a second volley was launched, with similar results to the first, as well as the third. Finally, more and more soldiers began to fall to the ground, but there was still fifty or so United Empire soldiers who were about to collide into us.

“Sasaki! Cut them down,” I said sharply, and the Assassin’s long sword rang out as it was drawn free of the scabbard Sasaki carried across his back.

“You as well, Chulainn,” Ritsuka instructed, and I saw one of the Lancer’s feral grins overcome his features as he dashed forward, Sasaki close behind. Together, with careful utilizations of their respective Noble Phantasms, made quick work of the remaining ambushers before any serious losses could be inflicted upon Nero’s army.

That still left a bigger question unanswered, however.

“Those soldiers, just now. They’re not like the ones we fought in Gaul,” Nero said, a troubled expression on her features as our vanguard continued holding their defensive formation. “Not that they look all that different, but still…”

“True,” Mash said, inkling her head towards the Emperor of Roses. “Rather than human soldiers, they felt like Servants. And yet, they were really Servants, per se. Doctor, do you have any ideas?”

_“I can think of several possibilities, none of them good for us. Things like this are typically related to Noble Phantasms. And I don’t mean typical Noble Phantasms. Rather, the type that’s designed for use on the battlefield in a more supportive role…”_

“Second wave incoming,” Chiron called out, his eyes glowing slightly. Mash looked troubled as she turned to Ritsuka.

“Master, I’m sensing the presence of a Servant. There’s one…no,” her eyes widened as she grimaced. “Several hundred! It’s the same presence from before, but I can tell that only one of their number is an actual Servant.”

“Is this an ambush? Where the hades did several hundred enemies come from?” Nero demanded, and I concurred with her and her frustration.

True to the warnings, what looks to be about two hundred or so hoplite-styled Roman soldiers appeared, but it was the one leading them that was the center of our attention. It was a tall, muscular man with bronzed skin, armed with what looked to be a solid bronze hoplon shield and dory spear. The weapons of the traditional Greek hoplite. Furthermore, the inverted V-shaped insignia on the Servant’s shield served as an indicator of where he hailed. Sparta.

Although, I had to admit, the burning crest on his bronze, Corinthian-model helmet was a tad bit ridiculous.

“It’s not an ambush,” the newcomer said loudly, apparently either having heard Nero’s question, or perhaps having anticipated it. “I chose to defend this place. That’s all. I shall crush you all, and not retreat. That is how we Spartans fight. Prepare to experience it.”

“Did you just say Sparta? Then you are—”

“Servant, Lancer. True name, Leonidas.”

“Leonidas?” Nero repeated, blinking in shock at the presence of the most famous of all Spartans. The leader of the fabled Three Hundred. Defender of Thermopylae, and leader of the most famous last stands in military history. “You introduced yourself as King Leonidas of Sparta?”

“Yes. It is an immoral war we are fighting, but I’m still going to destroy you

“What?!? You are the legendary Leonidas, the Guardian of the Hot Gates! Wait, so then, it’s not only ‘emperors’ who have returned to this realm? Then…what about Boudica and Spartacus…?

“Stay focused on the battle!” I snapped. This was neither the time nor place for the blonde Roman to get lost in her thoughts.

“H-Huh?”

“N-Never mind that, Nero, there are many enemies. We must strengthen our defenses! If we defeat Lancer, then his soldiers will be easy to dispatch. It’s another Servant battle!”

“Ritsuka, leave this to me. I’m letting you lead the other Servants to hold back those attackers,” I said, my voice calm and cold. Ritsuka eyed me curiously, but nodded without protest. I turned to my first Servant, my precious partner.

“Well, Mordred, are you up for a new challenge?” I asked teasingly, smiling at my Saber as she chuckled.

“Always!” She said with a wink, before her helmet reassembled itself around her face, and red lighting ran over her armor as she tensed her body, and I stepped backwards as Mordred began sprinting forward, and the battle between one of the strongest defensive Servants against one of the strongest offensive ones began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Take your bets on whose going to be the winner. My money's on Leonidas putting up one hell of a fight! Hard to believe that I am almost done with the Second Singularity, and yet it also feels great in an odd way. Might be because one of the big scenes I have long been planning is coming up! Anyways, did you enjoy seeing Mash's inner thoughts? I know that the anime and game sometimes make it seem that Mash is a bit too naïve, perhaps, and I disagree with that. I like to think that Mash can be a bit assertive in some ways, or wishes to be, but doesn't know how to do so because of her upbringing and all. Also, writing war speeches, my only (out of many) weaknesses!
> 
> Now, there is a possible chance that the next chapter won't be out until next Saturday, as I have five final essays to work on that are due on either Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday, and I know you guys and gals will tear me a new one if you find out that I allowed myself to do poorly on one just to publish another chapter. That being said, I am confidant that I will manage to stay on track more or less, and get in at least one chapter up before next weekend, but I just want to give an advance heads-up just in case. Basic CYA tactics, ya know? :)
> 
> Now, for the other fun part of every update, the question(s) of the day! First up: Which one of the four current Chulainns do you think is best?
> 
> Second part is: If Mordred Saber Lily could be a thing, what do you think she would be like? I had a dream of sorts and she just popped in, but I will wait until the end notes in next chapter to talk about what my thoughts on the concept would be.
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading yet another chapter, and for all the support, both verbal and non-verbal, guests and members! I sincerely hope you have enjoyed yourselves once again, and I eagerly await hearing your thoughts and comments! See you guys in chapter 43, and have a fantastically wonderful and safe day!


	44. Attack the United Empire, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred faces off against the Hero of Thermopylae, and the final battle over the Roman Empire begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another chapter. Halfway through there is a timeskip, but it will be the last one for the singularity that is more than an hour or two.

A brilliant trail of sparks arced through the air as the steel blade of Clarent scraped over the bronze of Leonidas’s shield. As the Lancer jabbed at Mordred’s midriff, my Saber side-stepped the attack before lashing out with the back of her right gauntlet, trying to slam it against the enemy Servant’s helmet and disorient him.

The Spartan grunted loudly, however, and bent backwards, and the knight’s attack hit only empty air. She released a furious grunt, however, as the circular bronze shield slammed into her chest, pushing her back. Mordred swung her sword wildly, however, preventing her opponent from being able to take advantage of the moment.

Shaking her head and recovering, Mordred flung herself forward once more, and I quickly looked to the sides of the dueling Servants. Despite being outnumbered (which honestly is a depressingly common occurrence for us), the other Servants were holding their ground, and were slowly but surely starting to whittle down the numbers of the original two hundred enhanced soldiers from when the battle had started five minutes ago

This may very well have been one of the longest fights that I saw my Servant engaged in with another Servant. At the same time, it wasn’t all that surprising, truth be told. I considered Mordred to be one of, if not the, ultimate offensive Servants. Leonidas was the exact opposite. Therefore, the battle had been stuck essentially in a push-and-shove stalemate.

It was something Mordred was apparently done with, however, as she kicked the Lancer almost a hundred feet away from her.

“You’ve been in our way long enough,” Mordred snarled, an angry glint in her eyes as she dismisses her monstrous-looking helmet. Adjusting her grip on Clarent’s hilt, I saw the ridges near the base of the sword click open, as a familiar sight began before my eyes. I hear Nero gasp in awe, but don’t look at her, instead raising a hand over my eyes in preparation for Mordred’s gambit.

“Let’s see you hold up against this,” Mordred said, smirking, as the backdraft of her Noble Phantasm had her ponytail flying wildly behind her. “CLARENT—”

“Brace yourselves!” I shouted, remembering how Nero and her followers hadn’t encountered Mordred’s ultimate attack. Nero snapped out of the state of awe she had fallen into, and thankfully followed my advice, as Mordred finished her incantation.

“—BLOOD ARTHUR!” With a thundering boom, the column of energy surged from Mordred’s sword towards the crouching Lancer. His eyes began to glow, and my gut instinct was that he was preparing to reply with his own Noble Phantasm.

At the last minute, however, Ritsuka shouted out. “Chiron, do it now!” I looked over to see that the Greek Archer had notched an arrow to his bowstring, aiming it at the Spartan. While Mash and the others had been holding the line valiantly against Leonidas’s second wave of enhanced soldiers, Chiron had subtly maneuvered himself to the side, and with the enemy Lancer focused primarily on Mordred, hadn’t noticed that the famed Mentor of Heroes had a clear line of sight to target him from behind.

In a blink of an eye, Chiron released his hold on the taut bowstring, and it swung forward, catapulting the arrow into the air at a supernatural speed, head, shaft, and feathering seeming to vanish before reappearing in the small of Leonidas’s back. The Lancer grunted in pain, and instinctively turned around, his focus disrupted, and now with a broken guard to boot.

Before he could recover from those two mistakes, Mordred’s Noble Phantasm hit home, blasting into and then through him, scouring the dried ground in front and behind Leonidas. I feel a wave of nausea rise from my stomach as the smoke settled, and I could see that Clarent Blood Arthur had essentially bisected the Greek Servant, as he toppled backwards without a sound, and Mordred and I hesitantly moved closer. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the enemy soldiers who were still fighting had vanished in a golden cloud one by one.

“You good?” I quietly asked the panting Saber as she caught her breath. The English knight shook her head slightly, warily eyeing the dying Servant.

The fatally-injured Lancer laughed bitterly, blood dripping down his chest as his severed lower half finished disappearing. However, the bitterness didn’t seem to be directed at Mordred or the rest of us. Perhaps at whoever gave him his orders, or just fate in general? “Just as I thought, huh? In a battle with nothing to protect…” With those final words, King Leonidas of Sparta vanished.

So too did the remaining soldiers, no longer capable of remaining in this plane of existence without the Noble Phantasm responsible. Behind us, Nero’s army roared in approval and victory, while Nero had a conflicted expression on her face.

“He also vanished, like my uncle,” she said softly. “So, he wasn’t meant to exist in this world after all.”

“He wasn’t half-bad,” Mordred grinned ferally as her helmet retracted, Clarent resting against her shoulder guard. Mash nodded at the powerful Saber.

“Indeed, he was a formidable enemy. Just what you’d expect of the ultimate defensive Heroic Spirit.” I saw Mordred purse her lips slightly at the Demi-Servant’s words, but she didn’t say anything. “What are your readings now, Doctor Roman?”

 _“No signs of any other Servants or humans around us. No Phantasmals, either,”_ he said, and I exhaled slowly, sliding my sword gracefully into its sheathe. The hilt landed against the metal rim with a loud _click_. I looked over at Nero, whose earlier display of unease had vanished.

“If that is the case, then let’s resume our march! Forward!” Nero called out, her features confidant again.

* * *

Thankfully, the showdown against Leonidas and his elite unit had been the only unforeseen incident to the plan. We re-united with the two Servants and their forces, and then slowly but surely made our way to the location Stheno had given us. Thankfully, the Divine Spirit hadn’t been deceitful…this time.

We stood towards the center of the army, and I gazed over the heads of the rows of soldiers, hailing from all the various provinces of the Roman Empire who had been fighting hard for their emperor, and at the opposite army assembled before the gates of the unnamed city they guarded.

Just as I had suspected, it was an army that outnumbered ours at least three-to-one. The equipment of the enemy soldiers varied from the early republic era of Rome, pre-dating the modern image of a Roman Legionary, to looking almost identical to the ones behind me. What I couldn’t see, however, were any Servants, nor the cursed Lev.

“Pathetic,” Mordred scoffed, sneering at the enemy. “A ruler should fight near the front, and share the same dangers as their subjects,” she growled, spitting at the dirt before her. Mash nodded, staring ahead intently.

“Indeed, there’s still no sign of any Servants other than the ones with us,” the Demi-Servant said. “We will probably encounter some when we break into the city. I hope we can find that court mage…” mash added softly, and I growled under my breath. I wrap my fingers loosely around the hilt of my sword, taking comfort in gripping it.

“This is it, Ritsuka,” I said softly, and my fellow Master looked at me with a grim stare of determination. “I know you hate the idea, as I know I do, but we have to let these men give their lives to buy us time. It’s little different from Orléans. Only the type of enemy has changed. We punch through that gate, make our way to the center of this city, and retrieve the Grail.”

“ _Hai_ ,” Ritsuka said, using his native language quietly. I place my free hand on his shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze as I looked over his head.

Nearby were Boudica and Spartacus, both in full battle regalia. The Thracian had swapped out his BDSM gear (sorry, armor) for a breastplate and a gladiator-style helmet that enclosed his head, though the mad gleam in his eyes could be seen as he bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet slightly. The Berserker was clearly ready for the upcoming fight, and it felt pretty damn nice to have a Berserker _helping_ us for once instead of trying to slaughter us.

Boudica’s expression was more impassive, the Rider adopting the stance of a veteran campaigner prepared to take to the field once more. Upon reuniting, the Servant had been summoned by Nero, and the two had held a private meeting. Whatever had happened during that session, none of us knew. The two rivals had been tight-lipped about the matter, but were still cordial to one another. Though, Nero had seemed awkward at times around the Servant. Speaking of the blonde emperor…

“Umu, it’s the final showdown,” Nero said softly beside Ritsuka and I, having dismounted from her temporary horse to fight instead on foot. I winced internally at the unintentional song reference that she had just made. At least she hadn’t said ‘countdown’. Last thing I need is to be mentally singing one of Europe’s songs in a middle of a battle!

Unaware of my inner thoughts, Nero spun around on her golden sabaton heels, and gazed at her soldiers. “Now is the time to gather my strength, and yours, my faithful soldiers. With this battle, Rome will become one again!” A deep, rumbling roar rang out in response, and the Emperor of Roses drew her sword with her typical dramatic flair, before leveling the lighting-bolt shaped blade at the sealed gates across from us. “Those miserable pretenders to the throne are cowering behind their fodder. Now is the time for the false Rome to fall! Fight, my soldiers! As my swords, annihilate very one of those pretenders! My sword is the Original Flame, and the sound of it clashing is like a star streaking across the night sky. Listen in awe and praise it! Rejoice, my Swords!”

 _“NERO! NERO! NERO! ROME! ROME! ROME!”_ Her soldiers chanted, knocking their swords into the brim of their shields, an earth-shaking clammer the ultimate result. Looking back ahead, I saw that the front ranks of the enemy army beginning to shift slightly, then more obviously as the first row of soldiers broke the line to advance towards us at a rather rapid pace.

Nero nodded to the _primus pilus_ , the senior centurions of the first cohorts of the legions at her disposal, and each smartly saluted her before spinning around to face their units, and began barking out the orders given to them. Just like in the various historical pieces that had been written on it, the Roman Army moved almost in unison. The first rank readied their shields, while the ranks further back readied their heavy, lead-tipped javelins to be thrown as the first row of soldiers came closer and closer.

Towards the rear, the archers trained by Chiron unleashed their first volley of feathered arrows,

Soon, the battle turned into one massive melee. Swords, spears, shields, arrows, and even fists were thrown back and forth. Men screamed and groaned, and it took all my will power to not throw up at the horrific sounds and sensations overloading my brain. A rough shake of my left shoulder had me looking at the helmed Mordred, who gave a solemn nod.

“Stay with us, Master,” she said with a teasing lilt to her words. I nodded and gave a weak smile, before taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. I can do this. I faced off against Servants, dragons, and more. I can do this. No, I will do this! Pulling out my own sword, I take one more deep breath before we joined the fight.

I do my best to block out the sounds of men killing one another as we make our way past the struggling mass of flesh and blood and steel. After a few minutes, it almost feels easy to do so. I loose track of how long it was until the next voice I could clearly register over the din was heard, but when it did, I brought me to a skidding halt.

“A Servant has entered the battle!” Mash called out, before another, louder voice overtook hers.

_“RARRRRGGGGGGH!”_

The sound of a feral roar had me looking to the side. Up ahead, a massive man was cutting a swath of death and destruction through friend and foe alike with two gilded axes. Bright red blood stained both the blades and his skin, which was almost as black as the darkest hours of the night. His eyes smoldered like molten gold, a solid color, as he bared gilded teeth as he turned his attention towards us. Golden chains and other curious-looking trinkets swung wildly in the wind as he roared again and began charging towards us. Those who weren’t slayed by his massive axes were trampled underfoot, Roman and United Empire dying without any regard.

“I’ll take a gander and answer ‘Berserker for $500,” I groaned. After all, the clear showings of battle madness, combined with Mash’s declaration of his status as a Servant, strongly hinted at the class he had been summoned as. Mordred let out a low whistle, and I could detect the faintest of traces of awe in her voice.

“Damn, that’s a big one, all right,” she muttered. I grunted in response.

“Doesn’t matter. If he is fixated on us, then we’ll just have to take him down first, hit him fast and hard. Get ready!”

As it turned out, someone else had their intentions regarding the unnamed Berserker.

“Hahaha! Worthy opponent, you are mine! Taste my blade, oppressor!” Spartacus shouted, grinning like a loon with a raised sword, slamming his body into the enemy Servant, blocking his path to us. Following close by, Boudica waved us onward with her sword. Splatters of blood stained her clothing, but she paid little heed to it, a determined fire in her eyes.

“We’ll handle things out here! You guys focus on getting inside and ending this madness!” The Rider shouted over the ruckus thrown up by the two giants trading punches, and then disappeared herself as threw herself back into the fray.

“You learned the lady, let’s go!” I said, gripping my sword as an enemy soldier charged towards us. Sidestepping his slash, I swing my blade, aiming low as the blade bites into the back of his unprotected legs. With a loud grunt of pain, the man fell to one knee. I prepared to deliver the final blow, when Nero thankfully took over, gracefully slitting his throat with a flick of her wrist as the Servants around us dealt swiftly with his doomed comrades.

The process repeated itself countless times, and soon my muscles began to ache as the constant exertion took its toll. Nero and Ritsuka looked to be in a similar state, while Mash looked only slightly winded. Our Servants, of course, showed no sign of any level of fatigue. To them, this must be akin to a light exercise routine. An admittedly grim and gory one, but still the same level of exertion necessary for Heroic Spirits as we cut a narrow swathe through the enemy ranks. Slowly but surely, as we pushed deeper, we put more and more distance between Nero’s army as we got ever closer and closer to the barred gates.

To my grim satisfaction, I could no longer see any legionaries bearing symbols that showed their affiliation with the Emperor of Roses. Good. That means we can finally solve the little problem of getting inside the city without causing any casualties to our erstwhile allies in the process. I skid to a stop and raise my hand, gesturing to the others to halt. I look towards my Saber.

“Okay, I think this is good enough. Mordred, unleash your Noble Phantasm,” I commanded by partner. Her helmet disassembled itself once more, and though she hadn’t told me if that was the case, it seems that in order to use it, she couldn’t wear her helmet. Curious.

“This is the evil blade that destroyed my father,” Mordred said as she built up her attack. “CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!” She howled as she let loose her most powerful attack in her arsenal.

The column of untamed energy roared forward, incinerating dozens, perhaps hundreds of United Empire soldiers before slamming against the iron gates barring our path into the city. Mordred’s Noble Phantasm blasted the doors off of their hinges, along with large chunks of the marble sides of the gatehouse, and when it was over, I could see a clear path towards the entrance to the city. Without a word, our group charged over the charred, smoking ground, our progress unhindered by the now-stupefied survivors.

Though our progress was unheeded, I kept my sword at the ready. After all, it was only the soldiers in the immediate area who were affected by shock, not the entire army of the United Empire. The lack of any reaction, of any wave of reinforcements either from the flanks or from the city had me on guard. I found the lack of movement from the latter to be particularly worrisome.

Numerically superior or not, a wise commander would ensure that there be some sort of reserve, either to launch a final assault on a weakened foe or to plug in any breaches. And yet, there was nothing. The possibility of this being another trap instantly came to mind, but unfortunately, we were out of time or options to serve as an alternative.

Finally, we reached the gate, when my commlink began beeping furiously. Coming to a halt, as did the others, I raised my arm and activated the wrist-mounted device. “Jacob here. We’re breached the gates and are about to enter,” I reported.

 _“Wait there, I’ve detected a Servant signature! It’s right ahead of you, and closing rapidly!”_ Doctor Roman shouted. At that same moment, I stumbled to a halt as I felt a shift in the air. The atmosphere…it felt denser, almost. More confining. Was it perhaps the work of the Servant the doc had just warned us about?

Sure enough, a giant man with muscular bronze skin appeared. He had red eyes, but unlike the ones possessed by the defeated Caligula, they held not madness but wisdom, and perhaps even a touch of arrogance? He wore a ridiculously minimum amount of armor even for a Servant, and in one hand he grasped an odd-looking item, a large staff with long bushes at either end made of what appeared to be horsehair dyed crimson. When he spoke, it sounded like a bronze bell, strong, confidant, and old.

“Rome welcomes you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Sorry we can't focus more on Darius, but hey, at least now we have another reason for the absence of Spartacus and Boudica for the upcoming boss battle. Did you guys enjoy the chapter? Sorry if it is subpar any, but there has been some...unpleasant personal developments.
> 
> My sister has tested positive for Covid-19, and has probably infected my mother. Since I don't live with either of them, and haven't seen them since summer, I am not at risk from getting it from either of them. However, that is a pretty damn small comfort considering my mom might be considered as being one of those at-risk groups. So, I am mainly writing to helped distract me because there's jackshit I can do other than write, pray, and finish my finals. Good news for the last part is that I am halfway done with my essays, so I am still on track for a posting this Thursday/Friday. Sorry for the rant, and y'all probably don't want/care to hear about this, but here it is.
> 
> Now, for the question of the day(s): What has been your favorite moment so far for this Singularity in the story? The other question is, what's your idea of an ideal date?
> 
> Once again, many thanks for reading the story, and giving all the support and feedback that y'all have done so far. Means a lot, and I cannot wait to see y'alls reactions and thoughts, and I'll see ya in the next chapter! Hope you all enjoyed!


	45. Romulus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company face off against Romulus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters before one of my long-awaited scenes happens! Hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for the well-wishes. Talk more below, so see you at the end!

I stared in a mixture of awe and wariness at the tall Servant. He had a regal air about him, like Nero but cranked up by twenty at least. I swallow softly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry, and to my shock I feel my right hand shaking slightly from the presence of the Servant. Just who were we dealing with here?!?

“Brave ones,” the mountain of a man said, gazing shrewdly at each of us, before focusing his gaze on Nero, who was still looking stupefied. “You are truly brave, and that is why you rule over the current Rome. Nero,” he said, as if tasting the word and savoring it. “How adorable. How beautiful. How gorgeous. I can see how you held Rome up with those slender arms of yours,” he said, bowing his head slightly towards the blonde in a gesture of respect.

When he had complimented her, he didn’t sound pervy or lecherous like Caesar had. Nor did he share the demented lust of Nero’s uncle. Rather, he sounded like a parent reuniting with a long-lost child. “Now, come. The past, present, and future. All that is Rome loves you,” the Servant said, gesturing towards the city behind him before turning around and re-entering said settlement. “Come, and all will be forgiven, your acts against Rome,” he said over his shoulder.

“What?” Nero said, sounding shell-shocked. “What’s…No, I-I can’t…would…that…even…be…possible… No, no, but…” She said, sounding more and more hysterical with each word.

“Nero?” Mash asked, visibly worried. “You don’t look well. Did someone cast a spell on you?”

“ _I’m not detecting any traces of magical energy. It’s probably not due to magecraft or Servant Skills,”_ Roman reported grimly. I hummed in thought, when I hear one of my Servants speak up in a gruff manner.

“Then that means that this should work. About damn time, too,” Mordred said as she sauntered up to the near-catatonic Nero. My eyes widened and I opened my mouth, just as I hear a loud, meaty _smack_ as the Knight of Rebellion slammed a (thankfully bare) fist into the right cheek of the Emperor of Roses.

“Mordred!” I snapped, fighting back the urge to groan. I was more frustrated at myself for not realizing that the Saber would gleefully take advantage of the opportunity to burn off her aggravation that had built up while dealing with Nero and her quirks.

Nero groaned as she stood up, one hand rubbing her red cheek as she stood up, shaking her head slightly. She stared with a surprising amount of calm at the smug Saber. “Thank you for snapping me out of it, as you say,” Nero said grudgingly, before her light green eyes hardened. “But do that again, and ally or not, I will end you.”

“You can try,” Mordred said, smirking ferally with her arms crossed. I coughed loudly, preventing the verbal catfight between the two short blondes from escalating further.

“As riveting as this is, let’s stay on track. Nero, you seemed to recognize that person? I assume he’s not Augustus?” I said, though part of me wonders if the Servant that had stupefied Nero was the first emperor in all but name of Rome. She nodded slowly, taking a slow breath to steady herself. The soldiers behind us must have been ordered by the newcomer to leave us be, for they didn’t pay us a lick of attention.

“I…Yes. I had thought it to be impossible, but it seems that word is most absent this year. He is Rome, the founder of my city.”

“Nero?” Ritsuka asked, unsure of how to react. I remained silent as the Emperor of Roses continued speaking.

“The holy progenitor of Rome…Romulus,” Nero said, her features hardening as she tightly gripped her sword. The founder of Rome, huh? It made sense, in a way. I had wondered what kind of Servant it would have taken to get someone like Caesar to submit, and now I know.

“He’s a Servant, Nero, just like your uncle and Caesar. He might be tough, but he can be killed. For the sake of survival, he _will_ be killed,” Ritsuka said with a surprising amount of steel in his voice. Then again, these kinds of moments could do wonders in hardening a man’s resolve.

“Yes. The Emperor of Roses fears no one. Come, let’s finish this!” Whether it was forced bravado or determination, it didn't change the fact that she was the first person to enter the enemy city, though we were right at her heels.

* * *

It didn’t take long for us to realize several things upon entering the capital city of the United Empire.

“It looks just like Rome,” Mash said in subtle disbelief, and I grunted in agreement, though not paying as close attention to our surroundings as we advanced down the main avenue. It was, and yet it wasn’t like the Rome we had visited in this time. The streets here were devoid of life. The only sounds that we could hear was the ever-fainter sounds of combat from outside the gates, and our own footsteps echoing off the marble-clad buildings flanking us as we delved further and further into the city.

I wasn’t sure if that was because the inhabitants who weren’t soldiers were hiding inside their homes, or if there was no one in there in the first place. Regardless of which was the answer, it made for an eerie sight. The buildings may be nearly identical between the two cities, but there was still a key difference.

This place lacked a soul. There was no noise, no cheerful citizens, no market stalls selling their wares. It felt cold and emotionless. Sanitized. It felt wrong.

“And yet, it is far different from Rome,” I finally said softly. Nero nodded, a grim look on her face.

“Umu. I see no sign of joy, of cheer or happiness. No matter how perfect a ruler might be, how can there be a nation without laughter? Without pride? As the Fifth Emperor of Rome, I will not let my beloved Rome turn into this,” Nero said.

I saw Mordred pursing her lips slightly, and didn’t miss the conflicted look in her eyes. Most likely thinking of her father and his reign. I subtly nudge Mordred in a gesture of support, and was rewarded with the slightest of nods.

 _“Magic signatures up ahead,”_ Doctor Roman suddenly called out, bringing us to a pause.

A loud series of _thuds_ could be heard as a familiar earthen-built shape approached us. “More golems?” I said with a sigh. Well, at least it wasn’t a dragon or some other manner of over-powered beast. More golems started to join the first, and with a loud creaking sound of its animated joints, the lead golem began charging down the cobblestone path.

“You know the drill, guys. Hit them hard and fast,” I said, sheathing my sword. It would be suicidal of me to try and cut down a being made of solid rock, but for Servants, this would be a walk in the park. Already, red electricity was arcing over the armor of my partner, smirking.

“You got it, Master!” Mordred roared, activating her Mana Burst ability and throwing herself forward into the air. As she began her terminal descent, the Knight of Rebellion raised Clarent over her head before slicing downwards, cleaving the lead golem in half. Not wasting a moment, Mordred charged into a cluster of golems and swung her massive broadsword in a circular arc, bisecting the entire cluster around their midsections in a single stroke.

“There things lack elegance or grace. They shall fall,” Sasaki said, readying his _no-dachi_ , before activating his Noble Phantasm. Though I could barely process it each time I had seen it unleashed, it was still a breath-taking sight, seeing one blade become three as the golem the Assassin had targeted fell into three different pieces.

The golems we were currently up against seemed to have been the most basic kind, and so with so many Servants fighting for us, we managed to carve our way forward, leaving behind large piles of shattered rock in our wake. It was slow and tedious, but we wouldn’t be stopped.

We had finally reached the largest building, in the heart of the city. Red and gold banners hung from the roof, while a massive pair of doors bearing carefully-detailed murals marked the entrance. Surely, this had to be where Romulus was waiting for us.

“Your Majesty, are you ready?” I asked Nero softly, who answered with a simple nod.

“Well, let’s get this party started,” she said with a big smirk, before turning around and kicking the decorative doors off of their hinges.

“….You do realize you could have checked to see if they were unlocked, don’t you?” Sasaki said dryly, voicing the line of thought we were all sharing. Mordred shrugs unabashedly.

“What’s done is done. Come on, I wanna get back to Chaldea,” she replied. I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as we entered the building.

* * *

I had a faint sense of Deja vu as we progressed down the gilded hallway. Minus the blood, gore, smell of smoke and ash, and fire, it felt much like Orléans. However, no crazed Servants appeared. Nor did we encounter any guards, monsters, wraiths, or even mundane Servants.

We said nothing, the only sound being our footsteps as we finally reached an even larger, artistically-carved set of doors. If I had to guess, this was the entrance to Romulus’s throne room. I took a deep breath, ready to face both the ancient Servant and undoubtedly that court mage of his as well.

“Masters,” Chiron said softly, and Ritsuka and I looked over at the Archer. “We have enemies approaching from the rear. If I may make a suggestion, take some of the others with you, while the rest of us hold the door,” he said, and we exchanged glances quickly.

“ _Hai_. Chulainn, Medea, you guys ready?”

“Always!”

“I see why not,” the reclusive Caster said softly.

“Jeanne, Mordred,” I called out, and the two blondes nodded in agreement. I turned back to Ritsuka’s Archer. “See you guys soon,” I said, and the Greek Servant nodded with a wry smile, before he and the others readied themselves.

Mash pushed open the doors before Mordred could repeat her ‘grand entrance’ act, and we entered a massive room. It had to have been one of the largest rooms I had ever seen, and towards the opposite end, halfway between the wall and the center of the room, was an equally impressive-looking dais, upon which rested a throne made of what appeared to have been solid gold, decorated with precious gems and occupied by the giant who was our apparent host.

“Here you are, my beloved child,” Romulus rumbled in satisfaction, his paternal look of affection present once more as he focused his ruby eyes on Nero. This time, however, Nero didn’t hesitate, nor did she lock up, instead strutting forward defiantly.

“Umu, I am here! O proud founder of our great nation, King Romulus!”

“Splendid radiance. In that case, should Rome call out your name, ‘Emperor’?” I couldn’t tell if the emphasis the Servant placed on Nero’s title was a veiled insult or not, but as always Nero took it in stride.

“Oh, there’s no need. Call me what you did just now,” she said, before her features hardened. “Whether it’s past, present, or the future, I am the one and _only_ Fifth Emperor of the Roman Empire, and the Emperor of Roses! Holy Progenitor, O King Romulus! I hereby challenge you with my warriors, my swords!”

The throne room shuddered slightly as the Roman Servant threw back his head and laughed. It sounded like a dozen brass bells chiming at once, before he looked back at Nero with an admiring glint in his bright eyes.

“I’ll allow it, Nero Claudius. Show Rome that you can trample over it’s love with that of your own,” he said, standing up at his full height as he brandished his odd-looking weapon. “Behold. My spear—”

“That’s a spear?” Chulainn muttered, a scornful look in the Lancer’s eyes as he held his own spear tightly.

“ROME IS HERE!” Romulus, apparent Lancer Class Servant, roared, and I resisted the urge to cover my ears as he leapt forward off of the dais. His feet cracked the marbled floor, sending bits of sharp pebbles flying towards us. At the last minute, Mash slammed her shield down in front of Nero, Ritsuka, and I, and we could hear the soft _pinging_ sounds of the mini-projectile being deflected.

“Take him down!” Ritsuka said. Medea levitated slightly into the air just in front of us, spreading her cloak as her staff appeared, and she began charging up what I affectionately described as her death laser array.

The beams of magical energy streak forward, while Chulainn and Mordred both charged onwards. The King of Rome merely smiled, and stood still. My eyes widened as at the last second, his leg muscles bugled slightly, and he leapt forward just as Medea’s attack stuck the floor where he had been standing on.

The Lancer lands between a startled Chulainn and Mordred. Even for a Servant, Romulus was moving faster than one might expect for someone with his body mass. That moment of hesitation gave Romulus a perfect opportunity to attack. With his right foot, he lashes out and hits Mordred in her midriff, while with his feather duster-looking weapon, knocks Chulainn of off his feet.

Jeanne charged forward, grunting as she came to the aid of her comrades. Romulus stepped backwards as the spear tip of Jeanne’s banner cuts through thin air. Chulainn rolls to the side, quickly flipping back up onto his feet, while further away an angry Mordred slammed a fist into the ground as she pushed herself back up onto her feet, crimson lighting arcing over her armor.

“Yes, Rome always needs a challenge to crush!” Romulus laughed as he deflected another thrust from Jeanne. With a casual wave of his hand, he uses his ‘spear’ to knock Jeanne off to the side. The Ruler skidded across the marbled tiles, sparks flying from her sabatons as she came to a halt.

Romulus growled as Clarent bit into his shoulder. Mordred had taken the momentary gap in his guard to score first blood in the fight. The Knight of Rebellion swiftly planted both of her feet against his side, using him almost like a springboard to simultaneously push herself away and yank free her sword. Romulus’s strike misses her as she lands on her feet, display almost cat-like grace.

The wave of cheer that Mordred’s blow had given me quickly drained away, however, as Romulus’s body began glowing. Mash readied her shield again, expecting an attack, most likely his Noble Phantasm, but nothing happened. Or rather, nothing happened _to_ us.

“Oi, that’s cheating!” Mordred roared as the light faded, and we could see that the deep cut had vanished. Romulus merely laughed.

“Rome is Eternal! Mere scratches against her walls are naught but fleeting sights,” he boomed, and I bit back the snarl. That arrogant, cocky bastard! Still, it was worrying. Could he do it again, and if so, was there any limitations to it?

No, nothing is truly immortal. Even Divine Spirits fade away, a form of death if you will. Romulus would be no different. All we had to do was find the right spot at the right moment and give it everything we got!

My eyes widen as a familiar arc of crimson lighting gleams over Romulus body. “What the hell?”

“See what Rome’s Imperial Privilege skill grants!” The enemy Servant boomed, before suddenly disappearing into a blur, reappearing in front of a startled Jeanne. I called out my Ruler’s name, but the blonde is sent flying into the air after a punch to her gut.

“Did…did he just copy Mordred’s ability?” Ritsuka asked numbly. Another blasted Servant skill, it seems. However, unlike the one Caligula used, which seemed to have boosted the Berserker’s attack at the cost of lowering his resilience, this one seemed to (hopefully temporary) mimic the ability or skills of another.

“You…you…BASTARD!” Mordred roared, re-activating her Mana Burst ability. This time, however, Romulus was prepared, and with his normal, but still impressive, dexterity, sidestepped the charge. With a triumphant grunt, he swung his ‘spear’, which with a loud _crack_ connected with Mordred’s back, sending her tumbling forward across the floor.

Romulus didn’t have a chance to follow up with another attack, however, as our own Lancer dashed forward. Twirling Gàe Blog, Chulainn jabbed at the Roman, who halted the probing attack with the haft of his spear.

In what must have been thirty seconds or less, this process repeated in several different manners. Probing attacks being either countered or dodged, and any wounds that were scored on the enemy Servant’s body were rapidly healed, but neither side dealing a debilitating or, better yet, fatal blow. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two sides broke off, and a brief, silent stand-off ensued. Mash and Medea held back, the former guarding us while the latter watched passively, as was her typical nature it seems. Still, in her defense, that battle was a melee whereas she specialized more in ranged-type attacks, so I held nothing against her.

The three Servants exchanged glances, a silent conversation of some sort between the unlikely trio. Chulainn nods, and the three begin to spread out, all while Romulus stares confidently. The two female blonde Servants attacked almost as one, Mordred swinging high while Jeanne thrusted her spearpoint forward. The enemy Lancer uses his weapon to parry Clarent, while twisting to the side and only getting a light graze along the torso instead of being skewered by the Ruler. Romulus swings his spear (though I personally would only use that term to describe it quite loosely) while also lashing out with his right knee.

Mordred leapt backwards, dodging the weapon, though Jeanne wasn’t as lucky, as she was sent flying once more from another blow from the Servant. She didn’t get up, looking battered, and presumably unable to rejoin the fight any time soon.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered to myself as Mordred dismissed her helmet with a serious expression on her snarling face.

“CRIMSON LIGHTNING!” Mordred roared, thrusting her sword in the air as the backdraft had her ponytail fluttering wildly in the wind. The arcs of red lighting she generated struck Romulus, and the muscular Servant flinched and roared in discomfort as smoke began drifting off of his body.

With another roar, he took two massive steps forward, and punches my Saber in the face, sending her skidding backwards with a gasp. Romulus’s shoulders heaved up and down, and the occasional

“Who says that _I_ was the one trying to kill you?” Mordred asks, blood dripping down her face. Romulus recoiled slightly, looking confused, before noticing that only the two blonde Servants were before him.

Romulus’s eyes widened, and he dropped his weapon, his massive hands reaching for the crimson metal sticking out of his chest. Directly where the heart would be.

“Good job Chulainn!” Ritsuka cheered as Gàe Bolg was yanked out swiftly, a thin crimson spray staining the walls as the Irish Lancer flourished the cursed spear.

“Couldn’t let the Saber have all the fun, now, can I?” He said with a friendly taunt that had Mordred rolling her eyes at him. I laughed dryly, feeling my nerves settle slightly as the wounded Romulus merely chuckles sadly. A trickle of blood leaks out of his mouth as he coughs, revealing red-stained teeth as he grimaced in pain.

“Your love is so dazzling, Nero. My eternal crimson and gold empire. I entrust it all to you and your heirs. Don’t forget,” Romulus said, his body starting to glow brightly. “Rome is eternal. Therefore, the world must always be eternal. Remember that…”

With those final words, Romulus’s body finished dissolving. For a few moments, there was naught but silence in the room. Finally, Mash was the first one to break it.

“We’ve defeated the enemy Servant, Lancer Romulus. Victory is ours,” she said dutifully, reporting to Doctor Roman.

“Umu. Rome shall be restored to its former glory,” Nero added, a tired but pleased smile on her face.

 _“That’s true, more or less, but we still haven’t found that court mage, or the Holy Grail. We need to find both of them,”_ Roman reminded us, thankfully preventing Nero from either singing or getting herself worked up.

“Hmm? But the United Empire has already met its end. Isn’t that right, Unseen Mage?” Nero asked, cocking her head to the side in mild confusion.

 _“That’s certainly true, give or take,”_ Roman admitted, as I stiffened. I felt the presence of someone else. A hostile presence, to be precise. _“But unless we secure the Holy Grail, our purpose will be—"_

“Show yourself, coward!’ I roared, my blood burning. A condescending chuckle filled the room, along with a sarcastic clapping of hands, as a familiar and hated figure stepped out of the shadows.

“Well, well, well,” Lev Lainur said, his voice dripping with mock approval and an undertone of scorn. “Fancy running into you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you guys think of this chapter? Had to do a bit of improvising due to making my own changes to the story at this point, so I hope it wasn't too confusing or short. Also, Chulainn finally manages to kill an enemy Servant while summoned as a Lancer! Realized that overall, Mordred has been the one dealing the coup de grace in every Servant battle so far, so I am going to try to fix that. As much as I love Mordred, if she is always going to be the finisher of the fight, then what's the point in having so many Servants accompanying Ritsuka and Jacob on each deployment, ya know? Also, Lev and Jacob in a room together...what could possibly go bad? LOL
> 
> Now, for an IRL update: So far, been keeping in touch with my sister and mom over the phone, and they seem to be doing well. Neither has been hospitalized, so fingers crossed. As for finals, I have completed all but one of my final essays, and the last one is due Monday at midnight, but I have it all under control :) As a side-note, next chapter is going to be posted on Tuesday to celebrate finishing a hellish fall semester. Thanks again for the will-wishes and all, and again, fingers crossed that no complications arise for them!
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Seeing as how it is now December, what is/are your favorite winter activities?  
> Second: What's your favorite Sci-Fi movie/series?
> 
> As always, a hearty thanks to each and every one of you wonderful guys and gals and in-between for reading and leaving some form of feedback, be it kudos, comments, bookmarking, subscribing, or even just reading! Makes me more and more happy to have decided to give this story life and seeing how its been received, and I must have been a tree in a past life or something because darn it I keep getting sappy lol. Anyways, eagerly awaiting y'alls feedback, and I hope you enjoyed! See you on Tuesday!


	46. Flauros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company confront Lev Lainur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals have been completed, so it's time to celebrate with an update! Hope you guys enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

“Well, well, well. Fancy running into you here.” The words were mocking, and I snarled, my lips curled as I _glared_ at the smug bastard. Ritsuka stiffened next to me, his own hands clenched fists. “And, to think that you took out Romulus. However, a Servant is still a Servant, one or many. Sorry, but you’ll never surpass the power of the Holy Grail,” he said, glowering at us. I noticed that, nestled under the crook of his right arm, was a familiar-looking chalice made of pure gold.

Mash gasped and dragged her shield over, putting herself between the rogue mage and Nero, Ritsuka, and I. Mordred, Chulainn, and Jeanne followed suit. “Is that the Court Mage?” Nero asked, and I nodded briskly. “Then, that golden chalice he ahs is—”

“Yes, that’s the Holy Grail. It looks similar in shape to the one we saw before,” Mash responded before the Emperor of Roses could finish asking the question.

 _“Who could’ve though a court mage would ignore his king’s crisis. I guess betrayal is second-nature to you now, Professor Lev?”_ Doctor Roman said sharply. I almost recoiled at his tone. I hadn’t heard such scorn in the ginger’s voice since first meeting him. Though, I couldn’t help but agree with his anger. _“Or perhaps, this is the_ real _you? You seem more energetic than when you were at Chaldea.”_

“Hand over the Holy Grail!” Ritsuka interjected suddenly, his tone sharp and firm. Lev smiled instead, shaking his head.

“I see. Looks like you’ve learned to talk back, _boy_ ,” Lev said, adding extra emphasis to that last word. “I hear that you did quite a bit in France, both of you, actually. Thanks to that, I really got yelled at! I would’ve been back at the Temple already, but no, I get to be sent back into the field! And as a result, I am here to do some clean-up. My plan was to give the Grail to a fitting fool, then enjoy what would unfold. But you two ruined that.”

“Boo-hoo, cry me a river,” I said with a sneer. Lev scowled at me, but I didn’t back down, nor did Ritsuka.

_“I see. Find a human, or a Heroic Spirit, who wants to plunge an era into madness and chaos. Then, if you give them the Grail, that era would surely drive itself into such a state. That’s what happened last time in France.”_

“But not this time. The Holy Progenitor Romulus did not wish for the downfall of mankind.”

“So, a true traitor gets to know what betrayal feels like,” the Knight of Rebellion said viciously.

“Shut it, trash,” Lev sneered angrily. “I never had any hope for humans in the first place. Ritsuka, Jacob. You think you can stop me, Lev Lainur, just because you defeated a few measly Servants?” He said incredulously, a palm pressed against his chest.

“What are you after?” Ritsuka demanded, and the traitor cackled condescendingly.

“I told you already, the last time we met. Something that has been accomplished. The question you should be asking, Ritsuka, is ‘why did you destroy humanity?’ Although,” Lev said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Even if you did ask me, I have no reason to answer you. Besides, I think you people misunderstand something. Recover the Grail, repair the Singularity, protect mankind—” I activated my Magic Circuits and concentrated, looking past the gaudily-dressed traitor.

Lev paused, bearing fanged teeth with a gruel glint in his black, soulless-looking eyes. “Protect humanity? Idiots! There’s nothing you can do There’s no point in struggling. The end is certain. You’re insignificant, worthless! You will perish in sorrow!”

“Not this time.” Ritsuka said boldly, though this time I could detect the faintest hint of uncertainty. I reached out and clasped his shoulder, squeezing slightly. My friend jumped slightly, looking over his shoulder, and I titled my head downwards slightly, as I tried to convey my intents through my eyes. My fellow Master finally nodded, and looked back at the sneering Lev.

“So, you truly feel nothing for Director Animusphere?”

“That incompetent idiot? Who could feel anything more than pity for that wretch? Honestly, killing her was a mercy,” Lev said callously. I could hear Ritsuka’s knuckles pop as his fist clenched, his knuckles snow-white. I had to fight down the fiery, burning sensation of my own wrath, instead focusing

“So, you’re a traitor and a sociopath, then?” Ritsuka said, the words sounding like he had to force them past sealed teeth.

“Those are _human_ terms. I am above them. Beyond humanity, in fact…”

I tuned out the bastard’s words, closing my eyes and trying my best to subtly activate my Magical Circuits. I concentrate, drawing water out of the air right behind where Lev was. In my mind’s eye, I saw the ice forming a pillar. No, rather, a spike, long and narrow. Flat on the far end, while the near end facing the exposed back of the traitor being sharp and jagged.

“Now, prepare to join that failure.” My eyes snapped open, and I gave a mental push of sorts to the flat end of the icicle I had just created, allowing my wrath to take over, now that I could finally avenge Director Animusphere.

“This is for Olga Marie Animusphere!” I howled angrily, sending the spike of ice flying into his back. Lev did nothing, and I heard a wet, squishing sound as the improvised weapon pierced his back before the tip popped out where his heart is.

Or rather, where it should be. The blood that was dripping from the tip emerging from his chest wasn’t crimson, but a pitch black, almost tar-like substance dripping onto the floor. Lev cocked an eyebrow and looked down at the protrusion, before looking me directly in the eyes and clucking his tongue reproachfully.

“What the…?” I asked in alarm, eyes wide as I powered down my Magical Circuits. In response, Lev merely threw his head back and cackled, while dragging the ice impaling him out of his chest like it was nothing.

“Pathetic. Allow me to show you the favor of our king!” Lev said, his voice growing distorted. Demonic. His eyes turned a glowing crimson, and his body began to glow brightly. I looked away, unable to look at the brightness until it started fading. When I looked back, I felt a wave of nausea overcome me.

No longer was Lev a human. Instead, it was a tall, column-like mass of flesh radiating a thick aura of malevolence. His skin was a purplish-black, and lines upon lines of massive red eyes coated the surface, each one inhuman and staring down at our shocked party.

“What’s that creature?!? It’s ugly!” Nero said, vehemently recoiling in disgust. “You’re uglier than anything of this world!” A shuddering, evil laughter oozing cruelty shook me to the bone as Lev replied. His voice was distorted, its pitch far deeper than before.

 ** _“That’s right! This ugliness will be you undoing!”_** The thing that was Lev said. It sounded like there was an echo, or multiple people speaking as one. At the same time, I couldn’t tell if the voice was something being said aloud, or perhaps being projected into our minds. However, I refused to let the creeping sensation of terror take hold of my mind.

“Doc, what the hell is that?” I demanded.

 _“This signature, this amount of energy…”_ a shocked Roman said softly. “ _That’s not a Servant! It’s not even a Phantasmal! Could it be—could that be an actual_ Demon _from legends?”_

 ** _“Allow me to introduce myself once again. I am Lev Lainur ‘Flauros’! One of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods! The Demon God Flauros—This is the true favor of my king!”_** The thing said proudly.

“How disgusting,” Nero said with a sneer of her own. “You are the reincarnation of evil!” The Emperor of Roses declared, readying her sword.

“A giant pillar of flesh protruding out of the ground? A large amount of magical energy…Doctor!” Mash cried out in alarm, as the rest of the Servants charged into the room, no doubt having sensed the presence of this…this abomination!

 _“…Flauros. He did say Seventy-Two Demon Gods. In that case, the king he speaks of is—No, there’s still not enough information. That’s impossible, Demon gods do not exist!”_ Roman cried out in frustration, and I could swear there was also an undertone of anger in the voice of the acting-director. _“We don’t know the details, but that thing is dangerous. We’ve got to take it out!”_

“Orders, Master!” Mordred barked out, adjusting her posture as the other front-line Servants joined her. I tensed my shoulders, the words normally delivered unwillingly feeling…almost divine.

“Kill Lev Lainur Flauros.”

* * *

With a cry of pain, a smoking Marie was sent tumbling backwards, the unfortunate Rider out of the fight. A single, direct hit from this supposed demon pillar had managed to deal such devastation? Just what were we dealing with here?!? And why the hell did it have tentacles?!?

Gilles cried out in alarm as a column of malevolent-looking magical energy slammed into the ground he had been standing just a split-second ago. In the same action, he had tackled Jeanne to the side, who otherwise would have also been caught in the blast.

However, neither of them was able to dodge the tentacle-like appendage that had shot out of the base of the demon pillar. The force of the blow sent the two French Servants flying across the room, slamming into the wall. The duo then slid down to the floor, collapsing into a groaning pile.

I growled under my breath as Chiron, Medea, and Amadeus fired either arrows or various magical attacks at the behemoth. Some of them were absorbed by more tentacles by the eldritch-like abomination, though a few, mainly spells, managed to slip past Flauros’s defenses.

The entity roared angrily, the vertical structure of its body vibrating violently. “It looks like the attacks launched by our Casters seemed to have some sort of effect against it,” Ritsuka said softly, having stood beside me. For once, Mash had thrown herself into the combat, though not without both prodding from Ritsuka and the reassurances of Nero that the Emperor of Roses would protect us. How, or if she really could, I was unsure of, but it appeared to have been enough for the Demi-Servant.

Said Demi-Servant was currently grunting as she threw her entire body mass against her shield, using all of her strength to keep yet another tentacle from lashing out at our Servants.

In a blink of an eye, the tentacle was severed in three different places, sprays of black blood flying in different directions, as Sasaki came to the rescue of his comrade. While his ultimate attack might have limited results when dealing with multiple opponents at once, against a single opponent, his Swallow Reversal Technique was truly something. Another roar erupted as another tentacle shot out of the base of the demon pillar. It swung down, and the two dodged to either side as the tentacle smashed another section of tiles.

At the same time, three more shot towards Nero, Ritsuka, and I, and both the Emperor of Roses and myself drawing our swords to defend ourselves and Rits. “MASTER!” A dearly-familiar voice cried out, and a mass of metal covered with crimson lighting sped by. With a single, overpowered stroke, Clarent sliced through all three tendrils, before its owner skidded to a halt before us.

Mordred’s shoulders rose and fell rapidly, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead, damp from sweat. The other Servants formed up a line, Gilles and Jeanne looking battered but still in the fight, though Marie had a slight limp, her right foot twisted unnaturally, even for a Servant.

“Master, we’re barely making a dent in that thing!” Mordred snarled furiously. Sure enough, the only real damage that had been dealt to the structure of the demon pillar had been the attacks of Medea and Amadeus, or rather, the ones that got past Flauros’s flailing tentacles.

Sure enough, the small wounds that had managed to get through the flailing tentacles were healing, the black blood that had flowed out almost bubbling about the wounds before evaporating, revealing a pristine surface unmarred by injuries.

All except for the ones that had been inflicted by Medea and Amadeus, that is. A brief stand-off began, and I turned towards our Servants.

“I have an idea. With the exception of those delivered by Amadeus and Medea, none of your attacks seem to be doing any damage. However, the Casters are unable to deal enough damage to that blasted thing because of those appendages. I need you guys to keep it distracted, maybe even blind it partially, but just keep it preoccupied on anything other than those two,” I said softly and quickly, unwilling to risk allowing Flauros to overhear my words.

The Servants exchanged glances, as if silently communicating with one another. Then Mordred looked back at me and grimaced. “Well, not like we have a better idea on hand,” the Knight of Rebellion huffed, before cracking her neck slightly and turning back to the demon pillar, just as the air began to cackle with magical energy.

“Now!” Ritsuka and I called out, running backwards along with Nero, Marie, and Mash, while our Servants charged forward, allowing for the magic-fueled explosion to only further damage the floor.

A rapid volley of arrows arched through the air, all the more impressive due to still being indoors, and took out dozens of the inhuman eyes With vicious battle cries, Gàe Bolg, Clarent, the swords of Gilles and Sasaki, and Jeanne’s flagpole ripped massive gashes across Flauros’s body, spilling more of the black blood onto the white marble.

Meanwhile, Flauros’s tentacles were fixated on the Servants assaulting the base, leaving the rest of him absolutely unprotected, or at least, that was my hope. I turned to look at the two Casters, our final hope for this battle, with hard eyes, my lips curled back in a feral sneer as I violently jabbed a finger at the demon pillar.

“This is it, hit that bastard with everything you got! Make every shot count!” I almost screamed, the sound mixing with the inhuman sounds Flauros was emitting at the same time.

Medea shouted out in her native tongue of ancient Greek, and a dizzying array of portal-like structures appeared in the air around her. In unison, each began to glow brightly, magical beams of pure energy beginning to form as the Witch of Betrayal floated high in the air. Nearby, though on the ground, Amadeus waved his tool, and ghostly silhouettes began to form around him, each holding some sort of musical instrument, as the ‘God-loved’ composer unleashed his Noble Phantasm at the same time as Medea unleashed her barrage.

An unearthly wail was emitted from the demon pillar as the twin attacks struck home. Unlike the other attacks, however, the wail seemed to contain more pain than anger, and the wounds left behind were fairly substantial, all things considered. My theory about the demon pillar being more susceptible to magic-based attacks seemed to have proven correct, as massive gouts of smoke began rising from the creature.

“Hit that son of a bitch once more!” I said. The two Casters responded with loud grunts, and this time launched even stronger attacks. This time, they punched straight through the demon pillar, the magical beams launched by Medea even scorching the gold filigree on the opposite end of the room.

Through the smoke, I could see that the wounds weren’t healing. Instead, the tar-like blood started leaking out in waves, like a ruptured bucket.

“Once more!” Ritsuka called out, and for the thrice time the Casters’ attacks hit their target, this time above the base, carving another series of holes through the entity. Thankfully, it turned out that there was no need for a fourth volley.

With a groaning roar, the ‘demon pillar’ began to glow weakly. The ground shuddered as the groaning intensified, before suddenly the column of writhing flesh vanished, and a humanoid shape was sent tumbling backwards.

“We’ve defeated the enemy lifeform, Master!” Mash said.

“Don’t let your guard down!” Ritsuka replied swiftly. Mash nodded, and the other Servants adjusted their stances once more.

“Right!”

“WHAT?!?” A bloodied Lev roared, his clothing torn and scorched. His top hat was gone, and his eyes were brimmed with abject hatred. “Impossible! Mere Heroic Spirits…do you really think you can repel one of the gods?!?” The look of rage was forced down, and Lev adopted a more shrewd expression, and I noticed how he was still gripping the Grail. “No, this is a simple miscalculation. That’s right, that must be it. It’s been too long since I left the temple. My cells are starting to die off.”

“A pity that you can’t just do the same already,” I hissed, eyes narrowed as I drew my sword with a shrill ringing sound.

“Idiot. I am entrusted with the mission to incinerate the future. It’s not as if I didn’t have a contingency plan.”

“Is something else coming?” Mash asked, but instead of answering her query with words, the traitor instead held the Grail aloft, and the golden chalice began glowing brightly.

“ _Watch out! I’m detecting the Holy Grail’s activation!”_ Roman called out at that moment.

“Rejoice, Emperor Nero Claudius,” Lev said, the title being hurled as an insult at a glaring Emperor of Roses. “I have summoned the strongest hero possible for this task. One truly fit to bring the demise of Rome.”

“Rome is the world, and the world shall never come to an end!” Nero shouted back, as the light grew brighter.

“Even pride is nothing more than ultimate stupidity, if misdirected, huh? See with your own eyes the end of your world! We’ll pull the floor out from humanity! We’ll destroy one of its seven foundations---by the esteemed words of our king! Come forth! The great hero of destruction, Altera!” The name sounded both familiar and yet unfamiliar.

The light faded, and between us was a thin girl with lightly tanned skin and bright red eyes. Her grey hair was long and thick, falling behind her shoulders. A colorful and unusual sword was gripped in her hands, colored almost like a rainbow. The Servant said nothing, her gaze sweeping over us without any emotion visible. Lev cackled manically from behind, a crazed look on him.

“Kill. Destroy. Incinerate,” the traitor instructed with malicious glee dripping from his voice. “With your power, burn both Rome and this singularity to the ground! It’s over, Romani Archaman! Your dream of continuing Humanity is just that, a dream! This Servant is the ultimate destroyer! Altera here is a Heroic Spirit, but her power—”

“Silence.” The voice was cold, her singular word delivered in a crisp monotone. However, it carried the invisible weight of a mountain, ending Lev’s rant.

“Huh?” A visibly startled Lev managed.

Instead of answering the words of who I would have thought was her Master, the Servant turned around, and sliced her sword downwards, cleaning bisecting the traitor down his entire length. A gush of blood sprayed out of the wound, before the two halves fell to the other side of another with a wet pair of squishes.

I felt sick at the gore that had once been Lev Lainur. Sure, he was a traitor, and I wouldn’t be mourning his parting, but holy shit, that was brutal! The Servant, whose name apparently was Alter, slowly turned around, showing an impassive face stained with a few small streaks of Lev’s blood. She stayed still and silent, watching us like some stony sentinel. In addition to the instinctive queasiness of seeing such a gory death, I also felt a selfish wave of disappointment at Lev’s fate. Damn it, I wanted for us to kill him, and avenge the loss of Olga Marie Animusphere and the others who had been killed in the bombing of Chaldea.

“Fou!” Fou cried out in alarm, leaping off of Mash’s shoulder from where he had ascended onto her.

 _“What? Lev’s signature has disappeared!”_ Roman called out in a mixture of shock and alarm.

“Yeah, that kinda happens when you’re sliced in two, I would image,” I quipped back, unable to hide the trace of hysteria that was creeping into my voice.

“ _What?!?”_ Mash, however, between Ritsuka, her, and I, was the one least unphased by the grisly display.

“He…He was cut in half by the Servant he summoned!” Mash said, trying to keep her voice calm. Her True Name is Altera. Class is probably Saber.” I noticed then that the aforementioned Servant was moving to the side, bending down and picking up the blood-coated Grail that had been used to summon her. She held it close to her chest.

“Altera has the Grail! It’s being absorbed…she’s absorbing it…” Mash’s voice trailed off.

“I am a warrior of the Hun,” Altera suddenly said in her monotone, though I could detect the faintest traces of an accent. Possibly Turkish? “I am the King of the Huns. I am the King of Destruction, the one who destroyed the western world.” As Altera continued to speak, her body began to glow, and she pointed her multi-colored blade towards us.

“I got a bad feeling about this!” Nero called out suddenly. “Mash, something’s going to happen. Even can tell!”

 _“Huge spike in her magical energy signature! This must be her Noble Phantasm, and an Anti-Fortress level to boot!”_ And we’re stuck inside a building….fuck.

“Master!”

“Deploy your Noble Phantasm! Hurry!” Ritsuka shouted back to Mash, while I look to Jeanne.

“Help her out, Jeanne!” The blonde nodded and closed her eyes after moving over to stand next to Mash, the two girls readying their response.

”This is what you people said,” Altera said, resuming her ‘speech’. “That I am the divine punishment itself. The Scourge of God.

At the last moment, the attacking Saber’s words clicked together. In history, particularly Roman history, there was only one person who had been given such a title. A leader from the Eastern Steppes, whose horse-borne warriors had been the tale of horrors for the ‘civilized’ world, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Attila the Hun, the Scourge of God, was also a woman?

“Now, die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? I've decided that I am going to write the demon pillars as more 'eldritch-horror' type creatures, because otherwise it would just be a disgusting column of creepy eyes that cast spells. Exciting for a video game, sure, but not really for reading, if you know what I mean? That being said, any critiques you would like to make? Also, do you think that writing Altera as having a voice devoid of emotion seem apt? I haven't really gotten to work with her before, (including the Santa Version), so I am kinda winging it in some ways.
> 
> As I said at the start, I finished my finals, and I have passed all my classes. Zlatz, that means you can have your hackers stand down, okay buddy?*Looks towards my window nervously* That means that I can write with (relatively) less stress, which is also wonderful!
> 
> We're almost at the end of the Roman Singularity. In fact, last chapter might be a rather long one, as well as the last one for Rome (Please don't quote me on that). It will be out sometime between Friday and Sunday, but no firm guarantees yet other than that time range.
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day! First up, what was your first anime? Second one is, if you won the Hoy Grail, what would your wish be?
> 
> As always, thank you guys and gals for being such wonderful readers and fans. It's been five months, and it's fantastic to see how this story is doing well. Honestly, I kinda expected for people to grow bored of it by October, so the fact that hasn't been the case is really wonderful, ya know? Eagerly awaiting y'alls feedback and answers, and I hope you enjoyed! Stay safe and warm, and see you guys in the next chapter!


	47. The Scourge of God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob, company, and Nero face off against the Scourge of God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this might be a day or two late, but at least it is here! Hope you enjoy, and see you below!

“Now, die.”

Altera’s body became enveloped in a blind bright light. Before I knew it, a rainbow-colored mass of energy vaguely reminiscent in a way of Clarent Blood Arthur surged out of the tip of Altera’s sword, rapidly bearing down on us.

“Mash, Jeanne, use your Noble Phantasms!” Ritsuka said, spurring us all into action.

“Deploying Noble Phantasm—LORD CHALDEA!” Mash cried out, slamming her shield down onto the tile, while Jeanne activated her own Noble Phantasm beside the Demi-Servant, as a multi-colored beam of energy surged towards us. I closed my eyes as I felt Mordred, battered though her armor was, position herself directly in front of me, and then the air felt like it had super-heated, even inside my lungs. I felt waves of heat upon heat roiling over us, trying to break through the combined barriers thrown up by Jeanne and Mash.

I cracked open my eyes, and I could see that the ground around us was being carved away, as if

Suddenly, the attack ended. Looking back ahead, I saw that the wall behind us was completely destroyed, as a heavy cloud of dust and debris covered out eyes. By the time it settled, Grail-empowered Altera was nowhere in sight.

“Where did she go?” I asked, looking around frantically. Wherever she was, so too was the Grail we needed to retrieve, and therefore restore one more of these s-called pillars in order to save humanity.

“It looks like she blasted her way straight through the city! Let’s go!” Cu called out.

* * *

When we finally managed to arrive back at the battlefield, it was deathly silent. Hundreds of thousands of bodies lay strewn about. A number of them were charred and smoking. Victims, no doubt, of the very attack we had avoided by the skins of our teeth. Further away, I could see the remnants of Nero’s army licking its wounds. What I didn’t see, however, was Altera.

“…I thought I was going to die,” Nero finally said softly, her face deathly pale, surveying the damage wrought by Altera’s Noble Phantasm.

“ _Right. With the release of an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm at such a close range, it’s amazing that you’re not dead. Thank you, Mash and Jeanne.”_ The two defensive-oriented Servants nodded, as another familiar voice called out.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re okay!” A grime-coated Boudica said in pure relief, skidding to a halt in front of us. Mud and blood stained her face, clothing, and gear. I couldn’t fail to notice however, that it seemed that her concern was only excluding Nero.

“More or less. Romulus and his court mage are finished, but there’s a new threat that has to be dealt with promptly. The one responsible for this, however, has escaped. We suspect she is heading towards Rome, to raze it to the ground. Where’s Spartacus?” I suddenly asked, noticing the absence of the muscular (and loud) Berserker. Boudica grimaced, telling me what had happened even as she delivered the news.

“Spartacus was rampaging around when he was caught in the blast,” Boudica reported grimly. “I was barely able to protect the soldiers I could. I was, however, able to see that an unknown Servant leaving the field, in the direction towards Rome.”

“She truly is planning on burning my capital to ash?” Nero asked, sounding outraged at the idea of anyone wrecking such havoc to her beloved Rome.

 _“I’d imagine so,”_ Roman grimly answered the blonde. _“She has the ability to do so, after all. Even if you’re left alive, Your Majesty, with the capital destroyed, Rome would disappear as well. Of course, she may very well come to kill you after destroying the capital_.”

“Either option is rejected,” Nero spat angrily, projecting an aura twice her size. “I have no intention of allowing either Rome or myself to fall!”

“Then the choice is clear. We have to defeat Altera,” Mash said. “But can we…can we even stand up to her?” Mash asked in a trembling voice. “Her magical energy was tremendous. It reminded me of the sacred sword of victory, back in Fuyuki…”

“That blade is nothing compared to Father’s sword,” Mordred said sharply, cutting off both the Demi-Servant as well as Nero. “You stood up to Excalibur, even if it was a corrupted version of it. You also withstood whatever-the-hell sword that white-haired bitch used,” the Knight of Rebellion said with a pointed glare.

Harsh as her words may sound, she did have a point. We’ve found ourselves in similar dire straits already. This is just one more. Nero took that moment to address the startled Demi-Servant, however, before I could finish my musings.

“I would like to think otherwise. Jacob, Ritsuka, Mash, Mordred, and the others, you have all saved me multiple times. Now, it is Rome who will be saved. My people and my Rome will be left for future generations. I am sure of it The Holy Progenitor said so as well,” Nero said, reflecting on the words of Romulus. “I heard it. The world _must_ be eternal. Rome must continue on eternally. Even if its name will someday be completely forgotten, the many seeds Rome planted will continue on in different forms. The eternal empire will continue to exist. Even if its emperor, state, and even name change.”

Nero paused, and took a deep breath, the most serious look in her eyes that I had ever witnessed since first meeting her. ”It is the innate truth that mankind will continue to thrive. The tree of life that is humanity.” Say what now? “Jacob, Ritsuka. I am sure that is the ‘humanity’ you are trying to protect.”

For an awkward moment, everyone just looked at the Emperor of Roses. I felt a little bit of despair inside. So close, so close to the blonde making sense! Boudica coughed, the veiled hostility in her eyes that I had come to realize was always present being replaced with abject confusion.

“…Emperor Nero. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” the Rider said in the flattest and bluntest tone I had ever heard from the maternal redhead. Nero hummed in thought, nodding her head slowly.

“I see,” she said, before suddenly she broke out into a wide, toothy grin. “Honestly, I don’t either.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to first rip out my hair or shout to the high heavens about….ANYTHING! Mash, polite, adorable, diplomatic Mash, coughed softly.

“I understood a little,” the Demi-Servant said softly, before almost wilting at the combined stares of everyone else. “At least, I think I did. Even if the clear and defined meaning of something fades, so long as the world exists, its memory will remain.”

“Fou!” The critter bearing the same name chirped from Mash’s shoulder. The Demi-Servant smiled shyly, and scratched the chin, earning an adorable purr from the cat/dog-like being. Well, when she puts it like that, it makes a lot of damn sense. I took a deep breath and wrestled control of my feelings.

“ _How about thinking more romantically? Nero’s words gave me strength. She’s confidant that we can fight Altera. That’s why this world won’t end,”_ Doctor Roman said energetically. _“Sounds good to me. Although there’s no real basis for it—it makes you feel like we should try. Ritsuka Jacob, what do you say?”_

I bowed my head slightly towards my fellow Master before he could shoot me an inquisitive look. He was supposed to start learning more about how to be a leader. This is one of those times where I had to let him step up to the podium. I could hear my friend quietly gulp nervously before clearing his throat.

“Let’s put our faith in Nero,” Ritsuka. Mash nodded towards her Master.

“Got it. Then _I_ will put my faith in _your_ words, Senpai.” The rest of Ritsuka’s Servants all voiced their own words of support, and I felt someone, possibly Mordred or Jeanne, nudge me from behind.

“We’ve done this plenty of times now: facing off against long odds. We’ve come out on top in the end each time. I see no reason for that to change now,” I said with a lopsided grin, one hand on my hip, the other resting softly on the hilt of my sword.

“Damn straight,” Mordred said, and I could hear her smirk, as well as Jeanne’s good-natured (presumably) sigh, followed by similar statements of the affirmation from Sasaki and Amadeus. Nero shot us another one of her brilliant smiles, before turning to Boudica, her expression turning a tad hesitant.

The Queen of the Iceni had a lopsided smile on her faced, huffing softly in grim amusement.

“I’ll join in, too. I’m tired of things always getting destroyed.” Her features harden, though for once there seemed to be the faintest of grudging respect for the optimistic Emperor of Roses. “I hate the one called Altera far more than Emperor Nero.” Aforementioned blonde chuckled a bit weakly, being reminded once more of the anger Boudica held towards her and her people, but kept in check for the sake of humanity.

We had a united front. There was only one thing left to say, now.

“Let’s find ourselves a fight, then!”

* * *

The sun was starting to set by the time we managed to catch up with Altera. It wasn’t all that difficult to track drown the rogue Saber. She had been cutting a massive swathe of devastation across the countryside. A part of me felt that if given the chance, she would put the combined devastation we had witnessed in Fuyuki _and_ Orléans to shame.

We had managed to avoid her attention and formed a loose wall in her path. When the Grail-infused Servant arrived, she stopped, the expressionless look on her face still present.

“Are you going to stand in my way?” Altera asked in the same lifeless monotone from when she first tried to kill us. It just felt….wrong.

“That’s why we’re here,” I said, settling with a grunt.

“We can’t let you advance any further,” Ritsuka added beside boldly, as our Servants fanned out around us. Nero, on the other side of Ritsuka, stepped forward before jabbing her blade into the dust as she stared into Altera’s red, lifeless eyes.

“Umu! I’ll stand in your way. I can’t allow you to advance further, no matter what, no matter the cost! You said that you would destroy the world. There is one thing that I don’t understand: why would you do so? The world is brimming with beauty. Flowers, songs, gold, love…and above all, this Rome, this world, is filled with my love.” Nero’s eyes hardened. “And you’d destroy it? Don’t you find that to be wasteful, Altera, or whoever you are?”

Altera didn’t respond to Nero’s remarks, and for a moment, I thought that the Servant was ignoring us. Finally, she spoke, once gain in that damn monotone.

“I am a warrior of the Huns. I am its king. A King of Destruction, who will bring that very concept to the western world.” Once more I got the impression that we were talking to a robot. No passion, no pride….nothing. Nero gave out a loud, dejected sigh, shaking her head slightly with a look of pity in her eyes.

“That again? How sad, Altera, but even that sadness seems beautiful to me. I can’t just leave you like this. I feel that there was a great pain and contradiction in your life. Perhaps your power exceeds mine but know that you cannot defeat me in love.”

“I know not of love, nor of beauty.” My hairs stood up as I felt a shift in the air around us. Altera’s body began glowing.

“ _Her magical energy signature is rising. You have to stop her before she unleashes it again! This is the last battle for Rome, guys!”_

“Looks like that concludes negotiations,” I quipped, as our Servants moved in front of us.

“Maybe it will work next time?” Ritsuka said with a hopeful tone.

“Preparing for anti-Servant combat! Master, your orders!” Mash said.

“Take her down,” Ritsuka said the words softly, a sad but determined look in his eyes, and as one, our combined Servants, plus Boudica, all charged forward, weapons raised, each eager to strike down the King of Destruction before she could unleash her Noble Phantasm once more.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

I had no idea what fighting her as a regular Servant would have been like, but imbued with the power of a Holy Grail, Altera truly was a King of Destruction, an untamable, multi-colored whirlwind.

First to go down was Gilles, a nasty gash cutting deep in the Frenchman’s breastplate. With Marie’s urging, Jeanne had dragged her close friend out of the line of fire, putting both out of action for the moment.

The ranged attacks of Chiron, Medea, and Amadeus were either dodged or deflected with almost ludicrous ease, even for a Servant. Medea went down with a loud, undignified squawk, closely followed by Amadeus, and the method of how floored me. Somehow, some of the attacks had been deflected off of Altera’s blade, and redirected them into the Casters, disabling both of them in seconds.

Chulainn suffered a nasty gash to his right leg before being sent sprawling into the dirt, while Sasaki was sent flying into Chiron. Boudica and Marie summoned their respective mounts, and tried to circle around the super-charged Saber. In a blink of an eye, Boudica’s chariot was smashed, and the momentum she had sent the redhead tumbling across the dirt, into the path of Marie’s horse.

With a cry of alarm, the Flower of Versailles wheeled her horse about, momentarily taking her eyes off of Altera. A half-second later, she flew into Jeanne just as my Ruler was returning to the fray, sending the poor Maid of Orléans sliding across the dirt towards us.

In less than a minute, most of our Servants had been incapacitated in some way. I fought down the raising levels of panic at the situation as Mash and Mordred charged towards the emotionless Altera, both leaping over Jeanne’s prone form as she came to a halt.

Jeanne groaned into the dirt just before Mash cried out in pain as she was bent over with a fist buried in her exposed stomach. She fell onto her hands and knees, a string of spittle hanging from her lips as she dry-heaved, her body demanding air. With a feral cry, Mordred attack from the other side, only to be caught by a devastating swipe that seemed to cut straight down her body. The Knight of Rebellion cried out, the sound a mixture of anger and pain as she stumbled backwards. Now, all that was left between Rome and the King of Destruction was Ritsuka, Nero, and I.

Altera continued to remain silent, instead crouching and chambering for an attack which I knew we would be unable to resist with the three of us. Still, both Nero and I drew our swords and stood in front of Ritsuka, assuming stances and ready to do whatever we could to protect my fellow Master.

Then Altera sprinted forward, as did Nero before I could stop her, and another blur entered my vision, appearing to be on an intercept course between the Hun and the Roman. A head of bright red hair and a choked-out name, before the sounding of steel penetrating and tearing through flesh was heard, drowning out all other noise in the field.

“Boudica!” I screamed, my mouth dry as Altera yanked her sword out of Boudica’s chest while leaping backwards, avoiding Mordred’s rage-fueled barrage of swipes. The heavily-injured Saber seemed reinvigorated with rage, and resumed sparring against her fellow Saber, her mannerisms screaming her need to draw blood from Altera.

Nero rushed over as the Rider collapsed to the ground. By the time I also managed to make my way over to the two, I could tell that the wound was fatal for the Heroic Spirit. With no Master to utilizes Command Seal, she couldn’t be healed in time.

Already, the sword and shield she had been using had faded away, and her white blouse was soaked crimson as Nero vainly tried to staunch the bleeding. I could tell in her eyes that she had reached the same conclusion that I had came to, but was desperately trying to stop it.

“Why did you do that?” Nero asked softly, and Boudica laughed weakly, her head nestle on the lap of her sworn enemy.

“I told you, I hate Altera more than I hate you. Therefore, you are the lesser of two evils in my eyes. Just don’t think that we’re friends,” she said with a soft glower. Despite her words, Nero bit her lip, fighting back tears. Boudica shifted her gaze to me.

“War is not without sacrifice, young Master of Chaldea,” she said solemnly, before coughing violently. My heart squirmed as the Rider’s body began to grow faint, golden dust once more appearing. Too often had I longed to see this sight, but for once, I dreaded it, because this time, it was an ally who was defeated, and not an enemy. I nodded, fighting back the tearing sensation behind my eyes.

I stilled when I felt a cool hand press against my cheek. “You are all so brave. Don’t give up, my brave heroes,” Boudica said with a motherly smile, before closing her eyes, and finished fading away. Nero choked back a sob, while I stared numbly, the sensation of her hand cupping my cheek still tingling.

Mordred pushed herself back up, small chips of her armor falling off of her body, her helmet shattered. She glared at Altera with abject hatred, and enemy or not, I feared that even a Command Seal would struggle to keep my Saber in check.

Wait….

Command Seals…

I looked down at the back of my right hand, then to Mordred, my eyes widening. That’s it! This has got to be the answer!

“Mordred, by the power of my Command Seal, unleash your Noble Phantasm!” A burning sensation erupted on the back of my hand as one of the three red seals faded away. Back at Orléans, Ritsuka and I had both noticed that they had been restored to the starting amount of three, but hadn’t pay much attention to it.

“Understood, Master!” Mordred cried out, a toothy smirk showing despite the large gash over her forehead. Once more, the blade of Clarent was enveloped in a wild mass of crimson energy. Unlike the other times, however, it seemed even more powerful. The Command Seal increased the power of her Noble Phantasm, apparently, or something like that. Damn it, I needed to do more research on this matter, it seems.

“This is the evil sword that destroyed my father,” Mordred said, and I saw her eyes narrowing slightly, before unleashing her Noble Phantasm. “CLARENT BLOOD ARTHUR!”

The beam struck true, enveloping the enemy Servant and destroying the land. Even with my eyes both shielded and closed, it felt like this time the light was piercing through my arm and eyelids, and I felt the ground beneath my boots shaking like an earthquake. Finally, it all stopped, and I cracked open my eyes, blinking rapidly to chase away the sunspots that appeared as I stared at an obscuring mass of dirt and dust where Altera had been.

When the dust faded, Altera was still standing, though barely. I could see her swaying slightly as she dropped her sword, the deadly weapon vanishing before it could hit the cracked and dried dirt underneath the steppe warrior. The dying Servant coughed up a wad of blood, her skin burnt and peeling, as if she had been sent ablaze. Even her hair appeared to have been smoldering.

“I see,” Altera said. Was it just my imagination, or for once was Attila the Hun speaking like a human being? I could swear that there were just the faintest hints of melancholy in her voice. “In this world, there are things that cannot be destroyed, even by my sword. I was called the Scourge of God…Even my…Sword of Mars….can’t…I see,” Altera said, cryptically, her body halfway faded. “Well that,” she said laboring, before shocking me senseless with a small smile. “Makes me…a little happy…”

With those final words, Altera, better known as Attila the Hun, faded away, her signature returning to the Thrones of Heroes as with Spartacus and Boudica, to await the next time they were called. In her place, the Holy Grail that she had absorbed clattered to the ground. Mash hurried over and retrieved the powerful item, protectively holding it as she walked back over to us.

I turned to look at Mordred, and winced. She was still standing, but barely. Parts of her pale skin could be seen, and she leaned rather heavily against Clarent. I looked at Sasaki and Amadeus, and then Jeanne, and saw that none of them were anywhere close to as injured as my first Servant.

“By the power of this second Command Seal, I order you to be healed,” I said solemnly, and the mild burning sensation was felt as the second arcane marking faded. A golden light covered Mordred’s figure as both her armor and body were mended.

“Ah, thanks, Master,” the knight said with a lopsided smile, stretching her armor.

“No problem. You fought brilliantly,” I said, observing Ritsuka doing something similar for Gilles before looking at a despondent Nero.

Nero had another sad look on her face. “Altera is gone. Perhaps fate will arrange for us to battle again one day. But is it over?” She asked, shaking her head before gesturing to the Grail nestled in the crook of Mash’s arm. “Have you obtained the Holy Grail, then?”

“Yes,” Mash said with a nod. “We’ve obtained the Holy Grail. This concludes our mission. Thank you very much, Emperor Nero Claudius,” Mash said, bowing deeply to the Emperor of Roses. Nero started to smile, before her eyes widened in alarm.

“Mash, your toes are looking faint! Don’t tell me you’re going to vanish, too!” Her words carried a tone of anxiety, a fear of loneliness. I looked around, and sure enough, we were also starting to dissolve, the Rayshift process kicking in for the return to our proper era. “Ritsuka, Jacob, Fou…I see. You’re all going to vanish.”

“Farewell,” I said softly, bowing my head, my hands gripping the hilts of both my sword and the dagger Nero had given me.

“We must go now,” Ritsuka added in his own mournful tone. Nero remained silent for a moment, before nodding.

“I had a feeling,” The Emperor of Roses admitted with a rueful smile. “My intuition is pretty sharp, you see.” Behind me, I had to fight down the smile at Jeanne’s soft squawk, followed by an indignant ‘That was my line…’

“You’re going to disappear like Altera, Boudica, my uncle, and even the Holy Progenitor. What happens next, Mash?”

“This era will be restored, once we leave. Your memories of fighting the United Empire will no longer exist,” Mash said bluntly, either unwilling or unable to sugarcoat the harsh reality she spoke of.

“That’s a sad thing. It’s unfortunate, I haven’t given you any rewards other than those daggers,” Nero said. “You could have been more than my retainers. Something more—No, no sense in saying it. Jacob, Ritsuka. The two of you will find yourselves heading to Rome. All roads lead to Rome, for Rome is the world. Both the Holy Progenitor and I believe so. Umu! Therefore, I will not say goodbye. Only thanks. Thank you, you brave warriors.” As I felt myself fading away from the 1st Century, I saw something pressed into the hands of a startled Ritsuka, who instinctively clasped the item. It was a red rose, glorious and in full bloom. Where the hell did Nero—Oh, Emperor of Roses…right.

“I offer you the thanks of my soul, and a rose for your efforts!”

With that, I closed my eyes and felt a tugging sensation around my body, leaving Nero to stand alone in the battered field. Alone, and with only a few more years left to live, but the last image I had of her was with a bright, hopeful smile. Then, nothing.

* * *

I opened my eyes. The glass lid of the ill-named (in my opinion at least) coffin was open, and I could see the cheeky grin of Mordred. “About time you woke up,” She said teasingly. I rolled my eyes at her antics and stepped forward, stretching my body as my sense of balance finished returning.

“Welcome back, and a job well done guys!” Doctor Roman said with a hearty grin . “You retrieved the Grail.” I noticed that Mash no longer had possession of the item, and was also back in her normal outfit. “Da Vinci is taking care of securing it,” Roman added, noticing my stare.

“Good. She’s placing it with the one from Orléans?” I asked, and Roman nodded.

“Yep. To quote her, ‘We can’t analyze its workings, but we can seal it away’. That can wait for another time, though. This is our second Grail, and we’ve also achieved our original goal of finding Lev.” Ritsuka and I shared similar expressions of disappointment, though perhaps for slightly different reasons.

“We didn’t learn anything…” my fellow Master said morosely. I gritted my teeth, the words escaping in a soft growl.

“Nor did we truly avenge the director.” We had been so close, too! Roman looked at me with concern, no doubt remembering my words I had spoken in private to him. He didn’t push the issue, instead settling on a sad look in his eyes, before dismissing it and looking at Ritsuka.

“That’s right. Altera killed him, and we never found out what his plans were.”

“You mean why he betrayed mankind and tried to destroy it?” Mash asked, cocking her head adorably. The acting-director rubbed the back of his head, nodding.

“That’s right,” he said in agreement. “We still don’t know anything, but we still have five singularities left. Lev spoke of ‘gods’. In other words, there are other enemies out there that are just like him. What that means at this point, though, remains an unknown. All we can do is recover the Grails one by one, and by doing so restore the singularities.”

“Leave the next Grail to us!” Ritsuka said with a rare boast of confidence, and one I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with. Still, we _did_ have something to explore from our encounter with Lev. He had used the name Flauros. Names had a meaning to them.

Looks like I’ll have to do some research over however much time we would get before the next deployment.

“—ood answer, Ritsuka!” I shook my head, paying attention once again to Roman’s words instead of spacing out. “I’m counting on you guys. You’ll have a week or so to relax and prepare yourselves for the next singularity. You’ve walked a long way, so I’m sure you guys would like to rest. Maybe also a massage for good measure,” the ginger-haired man said. I titled my head at the last part before shrugging.

“Actually, Doc, I was wondering. Could Ritsuka and I each try to summon a Servant first? If we’re going to be dealing with more of those…things…we’re going to expand the ranks,” I said. Ritsuka chimed in a moment later, stating his own agreement, and Roman tapped his chin thoughtfully

”I guess you guys have enough energy to do so. Very well. Give me five minutes to contact Da Vinci and set things up."

* * *

I cracked my knuckles nervously, earning a reproachful look from Amadeus, the Caster no doubt despising the _crunching_ sounds my action had made, but hey, I’m worried that somehow I’ll be the unfortunate SOB to summon Kiyohime!

Or slightly better, but still worse, a bowl of tofu, apparently.

I was first up, so at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the question of what I would get for much longer. Returning Ritsuka’s fist-bump for good luck, I walked over to a beaming Da Vinci, who patted me on the back with a hearty congratulations before stepping aside and allowing me to grip the lever to activate the machinery.

After doing so, I am rewarded with the three familiar, and by now almost comforting, bands of brilliant white light, signaling the imminent arrival of a new Servant.

“Please not Kiyohime, please not Kiyohime, please not Kiyohime,” I muttered frantically under my breath as a human shape began to be seen as the light faded. It wasn’t the psycho-yandere (another term I learnt from Ritsuka, though the Servant was no less bizarre-looking.

Purple hair tied up in a long ponytail reminiscent of Jeanne’s, with a black ribbon nestled on either side. The Servant wore a long, white, fur-trimmed cloak, what looked like a corset, and thigh-high tights. The Servant did what some might be able to describe as a cute pose, but I found adorably goofy.

“Yahoo! My name is Astolfo! Rider Class! And, and…um, nice to meet you!” The self-described Rider said in a rather feminine voice, a mischievous glint in her purple eyes. At least, I thought the newcomer was a girl, and yet….note to self, ask for their (His? Her?) preference of pronouns and all. Oh boy….still glad it wasn’t Kiyohime.

“Rider of Black,” Mordred and Jeanne sighed as one, and I bit back a chortle of amusement. Another old colleague of my two blonde Servants, then, huh? I extended a hand, and the Rider smiled, gripping it tightly as we shook hands.

“Welcome to Chaldea, Astolfo. I’m Jacob Aronson. I look forward to working together,” I said in a friendly manner. Astolfo nodded, before stepping away to look curiously at the two Servants apparently familiar with the newcomer.

“Ruler! You’re here too! Oh, and you as well, Saber of Red,” the Rider said, the tone going from warm and friendly to wary, and a little cold as well. The two sighed again, Jeanne with dry amusement, and Mordred’s heavy with irritation.

“Oi, just stuff it, pipsqueak. We’re working together, and now have the same Master.”

Before an argument could erupt in full, thankfully (Astolfo’s mouth had been opening as they planted their hands on their hips, Da Vinci coughed loudly.

“No fighting in the Summoning Chamber! Ritsuka, your turn,” the Caster said, staring down at the two Servants in question while a now-nervous Ritsuka nodded and took my place at the machine.

Another throw of the switch, another faint muttering of ‘Not Kiyohime,’ and another Servant was summoned. However, I felt a sense of unease building in my gut before the light had even faded. I tried to ignore it as I was able to start making out the appearance of Ritsuka’s new Servant. It looked to be a young teenage girl in half plate armor. Underneath she wore a dress of sorts, a brilliant, royal blue piped with golden threads. I got a sense of nobility about her, and I felt like she was familiar, somehow.

Then I heard Mordred inhale sharply, and the pieces clicked together in my mind.

My breath was caught in my throat as the reason why the newcomer looked so familiar. And it wasn’t just because she shared relatively the same features as an extremely stiff and uncomfortable-looking Mordred by my side. It was a small mercy that it wasn’t answering my summons, but that was about it!

“My name is Artoria Pendragon. I ask this of you, are you my Master?” The blonde Servant asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh....I love a good cliffhanger. What about y'all? Sorry for truncating the fight scene, but I have been writing so many back to back, it was getting mundane, repetitive, and all. Hope it was okay? I decided to have Boudica be killed because, among other reasons, Jacob hasn't seen an allied Servant die in combat before his eyes. Plus, I wanted to give Boudica a memorable ending for the Second Singularity, but what are your thoughts? Also, who's thrilled for pirates?!?
> 
> Also, I am internally panicking about the next chapter. Some of you (or probably all!) have an idea of what's going to happen, but I wanna do a good job, so please wish me luck!
> 
> Speaking of upcoming chapters, I may be slowing down my pace because I am not 100% sure of how I want to write the next few chapters. They are mainly going to be character interactions and humor, as our protagonists decompress from Rome. I have some ideas, but I don't wanna go flying off the handle. Will try to maintain at least one chapter a week, and then when we start the Third Singularity it will be back to normal :)
> 
> On another note, fellow author and Mordred/Fate enthusiast DraketheDragon (alone with a few others) have started a Fate forum on discord. I know that some, if not most, don't have a discord, but if you do and are interested in joining, let me know in your comments and when I reply I'll send you a link to join :)
> 
> Last bit or IRL news: My mom and sister have almost finished recovering, so that is a wonderful feeling.
> 
> Now, for the fun part of the end notes, the question(s) of the day! For fellow FGO players, here's the first question: If you could pick any event you either missed or want to do again, what is it and why? For me it is probably the Seven Counterfeit Spirits and/or the one with Jeanne d'Arc Alter Santa Lily.
> 
> For the second, more generic question: What's your favorite meal/food?
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the conclusion of the Second Singularity, and thanks for all the love and support! Still can't believe how well my story is doing, and it's all thanks to you! Eagerly awaiting your comments, reviews, and answers, and thanks for reading! Hope you're all dying to see Chapter 48 like I am, and see you in the next chapter!


	48. Hurt and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred and Jacob confront their inner feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here *starts hyperventilating in a paper bag*

“I am Artoria Pendragon. I ask this of you.”

Father was here.

_Father was here._

Mordred’s breath was caught in her throat, the knight feeling lightheaded. There was a loud, pounding sound in her ears. Her body felt light and heavy at the same time, her heartbeat elevated. A flurry of images flashed before her eyes.

Seeing her father as a young child from an alley. Kneeling before the King of Knights for the first time. Being tasked to subdue a rebellion in the name of King Arthur. Gazing up at the one she had held above all others in a dimming courtyard.

The blank expression as she was rejected. Those emotionless eyes up close as Mordred received that mortal blow at Camlann, seconds before striking down her killer.

And now, her father stood before her once more.

“Yes, I am Ritsuka Fujimaru. Welcome to Chald…”

Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe it was just everyone else realizing the rising tension, but everything was quiet. Her breathing grew quicker, and it took all of her willpower to keep herself from shaking.

Yes, things had ended poorly between the two in life. But perhaps, fate, or the Throne of Heroes, had given her a second chance.

“F-Father?” Maybe, _just_ maybe, she could be acknowledged by her father. It didn’t have to be much, not anymore. She no longer wanted the throne. Just a nod could do, just as long as Arthur acknowledged her existence as his son.

“Master, are these all the Servants that have already answered the call, or are there more?”

And just like that, Mordred knew what that meant. What her father thought of her.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just like mother. At best a tool. Someone best left in the shadows. A third-rate knight.

A fucking tool.

In the back of her mind, a voice sounding eerily like her mother’s was urging her to summon Clarent. To repeat the ‘lesson’ she had taught Arthur on that blood-soaked hill all those centuries ago. However, a quick glance at Jacob, and the others that she had come to realize were her friends, and then imagining the disappointed look of her last Master, and she ruthlessly stamped down on that urge.

Tears began welling up in the corner of her eyes. Unlike the last time this happened, that dark thought aside, there was no overwhelming surge of anger, no desire to rip, maim, burn, and destroy. She no longer wanted the throne. She wouldn’t cause a second Camlann.

But she couldn’t be in here either. Mordred couldn’t take the look of sympathy from Jacob or the others. Without a word, and choking back a pain snarl, the Knight of Rebellion spun around on her heels and stomped out into the hallway.

Then, when she felt that she was safely out of sight of the others, she activated her Mana Burst ability, running aimlessly, just as long as she was away from everyone else.

* * *

“I am Artoria Pendragon. I ask this of you,” The newest Servant of Chaldea said, staring at Ritsuka with intense teal eyes, just a few shades lighter than that of the stiffened blonde next to me. The last time I heard that voice, it was in a horrible set of memories.

King Arthur. Mordred’s father, and killer.

Someone whose praise and acknowledgement Mordred had become virtually obsessed over, and whose rejection sealed the fates of both the English blondes.

“Yes, I am Ritsuka Fujimaru. Welcome to Chald…” Ritsuka’s cheerful tone trailed off as he realized that the newest addition to Chaldea wasn’t paying attention. Even Astolfo, newcomer though she was, kept silent, eyes flickering back and forth between parent and child.

My mouth was dry. The tension was thick. Jeanne, Mash, Da Vinci, and even Astolfo seemed to tense up, ready to intervene between the two should either attempt to start exchanging blows. Only Artoria seemed to be unphased.

Finally, Mordred broke the silence with a single word.

“F-Father…?” Mordred asked, her voice trembling with emotions. I held my breath as father and son stared at one another. Finally, she looked back at Ritsuka.

“Master, are these all the Servants that have already answered the call, or are there more?” She asked in a regal, yet cold-sounding tone. The door whooshed open and Mordred stormed out, the last thing I was able to see before she turned around being the hurt expression in her eyes. I looked at her, then to Jeanne, who was starting at me with concern. I leaned over to her.

“I’m going to go find her. Mind giving Astolfo an abridged tour?” I asked quietly and rapidly. Without an ounce of hesitation, the kind-hearted saint nodded. I gave her a faint smile of relief, before looking back at Ritsuka.

“You can start the tour without me, Rits,” I said, not waiting for an answer before dashing out of the room, hurrying to catch up to Mordred.

Preferably before she did something brash and stupid!

* * *

Goddamn idiot!

Damn it, why didn’t I consider this possibility? I bit back a snarl of frustration. A surge of anger flared up. Anger at Morgan for being such a horrid mother to Mordred. Arthur, or Artoria, or whatever name they went by, for refusing to acknowledge even now their own child. Anger at myself, for my short-sightedness. However, I refused to allow myself to slip into a bout of self-anger over this lapse of judgement, however.

That could come later, after I dealt with calming my precious Saber.

I first went to the training room, on the hunch that perhaps the headstrong knight had gone there to vent her thinly-veiled frustration on practice dummies. To my mild disappointment, all I saw was an empty and dark room.

Next, I tried her room, knocking on the closed door. After a few minutes, I mutter a silent apology and press my ear to the metal, and hear nothing. She wasn’t there, either, then.

Nor was she in the cafeteria, nor the vast library. Though why she would be in there, I wasn’t sure, but I was starting to run out of ideas. Damn it, where was Mordred?!?

I paused, stiffening at hearing the sound of metal slamming against metal. I strain my ears, and when I hear the sound being repeated, I start to make my way over to the direction it seemed to be coming from, running as fast as I can. It seemed to be close by my room, too.

I gasped slightly as I saw the Knight of Rebellion, my friend and partner, slamming a gauntlet-covered fist into the wall. The Saber had apparently been at this for several minutes at the very least, seeing as how there was already a sizable, deep indentation in the wall roughly the size of her fist.

“Mordred…” I said softly, drawing her attention. Her green eyes were rimmed with red, trails of bitter tears falling down

“Father just looked at me…then he asked if there were any other Servants at Chaldea…”

“Mord—”

“Just a simple nod! Would that have been so difficult for the King of Knights to do?!?” Mordred screamed, slamming her gauntlet once more into the wall, deepening the dent, as well as cracking the armored glove protecting her knuckles.

“I’m just the incestuous bastard child of a cruel witch and an uncaring king! A pretend knight. A traitor!” Her words flowed up angrily, the level of self-loathing growing stronger and stronger. “A reckless idiot who gets her Masters killed. An immature brat!”

“Mordred,” I tried to say, before she snapped furiously.

“Don’t patronize me!” She sneered. A part of me wanted to flinch, but I steadied myself, ready and willing to confront every last drop of her ire.

“I’m just a worthless third-rate knight,” Mordred snarled bitterly, refusing to look up at me. I could feel my heart aching for her. My first Servant who has fought for and alongside me since the beginning, in the flame-covered ruins of Fuyuki. The proud and bold Knight of Rebellion, who never backed down from a challenge, and was always willing to speak her mind, and damn the consequences. The Servant I trusted most.

The warrior I love.

“No.”

“But—”

“You are not a third-rate knight!” I snapped, causing Mordred to snap her mouth shut with an audible _click_.

I gazed at her, my brown eyes boring down into ones of emerald. “You’re a fearsome and proud knight, Mordred Pendragon. I’m proud to have you as my friend and partner. Don’t ever think you are worthless.”

To my dismay, I could see that the words had little, if any, effect on her. Mordred scoffed, and took a half-step froward, trying to move. I bite my lip, thinking fast. Finally, I push her back against the wall, leaning my face close to hers.

“Wha—"

I press my lips clumsily against hers, both silencing and stunning her. I close my eyes tightly, expecting to be punched through the wall behind me at any moment.

“You…you are incredible, Mordred,” I finally said, feeling my cheeks blush slightly. At any moment, I expect Mordred to break out of her shocked stupor.

The blow doesn’t come however. Mordred’s cheeks pinkened slightly, eyes wide. “A-A-And, I love you,” I added softly, hesitantly, doing my best to not stutter like a fool, but sadly failing.

The knight’s jaw tried to work itself open and close several times, but no words escaped. Her eyes were wide. Finally, she managed to speak, speaking softly.

“You’re crazy,” Mordred said in a mixture of disbelief and resignation. Her lips were red and swollen, as my own felt. I smirk, leaning in closer.

“Maybe, but would you have me any other way, Mordred?” I asked, mustering everything to sound as earnest as I felt. Mordred growled softly and punched my right shoulder, but I could tell that it wasn’t intent on causing harm.

“Just shut up,” she muttered, her voice still a bit hoarse as she wrapped her hands around me tentatively, leaning up towards me.

I closed my eyes as our lips crashed together, and we drew closer into one another, taking comfort in one another's presence and passion…

* * *

“Do you think Jacob found Mordred, Senpai?” Mash asked Ritsuka, naked concern on her face as he and the Demi-Servant walked towards their rooms. He had asked if Astolfo and Artoria would be okay with waiting for a full tour to be given to them come morning, and they both accepted the offer.

Well, Astolfo did. His newest Servant? In a way, her mannerisms felt vaguely reminiscent of Altera’s…without the whole ‘burn, slash, destroy’ vibe. While Ritsuka wouldn’t say that her answering the call of duty wasn’t appreciated, he couldn’t say the same thing about the drama and baggage she had apparently brought to Chaldea.

Tomorrow, he should talk to his friend and fellow Master about what he felt would be the best way to deal with this newest mess.

“If anyone can help the Knight of Rebellion out, it’s Jacob,” he said confidently, and Mash nodded in understanding, though now with a sad expression on her face.

“You look down, Mash. Thinking about Nero?” He finally asked. Mash nodded her head slightly.

“Yes. Our parting with Nero was so sudden. I feel bad about leaving her,” his friend admitted to him, closing her eyes with a sigh. “Even if it ended up never happening, in that last moment, she was alone. She defeated the people she respected, and said goodbye to her rivals—and she was left all alone to rule that huge empire of hers, with no one to rely on.” Ritsuka noticed the melancholy tone the Shielder’s voice had taken, and he tilted his head, looking at her with concern.

“Was this battle hard for you?” He asked quietly. To his relief, the pink-haired girl shook her head.

“It was a hard battle, yes. We almost died many times, and I’m still scared of fighting,” she admitted, momentarily throwing him for a loop. Then she gave him a brilliant, heartwarming smile. “But, it was a fun journey. Partially thanks to Nero’s glamour, but it was a lot of fun.”

Ritsuka smiled heartily at his kouhai. “It was a fun empire, just like Nero,” the Master of Chaldea said, shaking his head as he recalled the various antics he had witnessed being around the Emperor of Roses. And who knows? Perhaps before the next deployment, some or maybe even all three of the allied Servants which they had met would answer his and Jacob’s calls!

“Yes. I’ll never forget that sky and land, that’s for sure.” Suddenly, the shy girl perked up with a shy smile, an odd look in her eyes. “By the way, Senpai, about what the Doctor said before we performed the summonings…”

Ritsuka cocked his head slightly, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out just what she was exactly referring to. “The thing about a massage?” He asked cautiously. Apparently, it was a good guess, because Mash nodded emphatically.

“Yes, you need to take care of yourself. Shall I give you a massage?” She sounded almost like his mother with the first part, with her endearing ‘older persona’ tone she had at times. “I know several effective methods: shiatsu, deep tissue…”

“Huh. Sounds good,” he said with a shrug. He almost blinked in surprise at the wide smile his response elicited from Mash.

“Really?” Her eyes widened, and then she coughed, fidgeting with the red tie of her uniform. “Ahem. I really wanted to try it. That’s all,” Mash tacked on quickly, trying to sound more like her normal self, complete with the addition of one of her looks of hesitation.

“What’s up?” Ritsuka asked his partner, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. An expression he had been working on emulating after seeing his own senpai (in a way) perform the action. Mash rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, and he was reminded in a way of how similar it was to the one that Doctor Roman did.

“I tried it once before, and they said it really hurt…oh! T-That shouldn’t happen anymore. I practiced after that,” she admitted, before adding a soft “in my mind”. Suddenly, Ritsuka’s interest in the offer seemed to be shrinking, and he let out an instinctive, nervous titter of laughter. He started to step to the side, hid mind trying to figure out what the best way to escape from this latest pitfall.

“Huh? Senpai? What’s that….up….ahead….” Mash’s voice got progressively quitter until she finally trailed off. Looking back ahead, Ritsuka did a double take, then rubbed his eyes, blinking several times in rapid succession, before finally staring.

Jacob was pressing up against Mordred, his hands on her shoulders. The Saber’s were locked around his waist, and the two were pressed up against one another. Intimately so. Just as the passionate kissing they were, ahem, performing.

Ritsuka felt his cheeks explode into warmth, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see a similar reaction taking place on Mash’s face. The pink-haired girl started to open her mouth, but before she could potentially announce their presence to the two, Ritsuka quickly placed a hand against her lips.

“Snpi?” Mash tried to say, her voice muffled by his hand. Still unable to look away from the sight before them, Ritsuka shook his head slightly.

“On second thought, let’s get started with that massage,” Ritsuka said, finally managing to tear his eyes away from the sight. Mash perked up once more, and almost dragged the confused Master to the opposite direction, leaving Jacob and Mordred alone once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? First time I actually tried writing something like this, so I hope it was passable! Big thanks to both DraketheDragon and TheReaperD for giving me feedback and support for this chapter. Without them I have a bad feeling that I would still be staring at my computer screen trying to figure out just what the hell to do! Let me know what you guys think, though again, keep in mind that this is something I've never really worked with.
> 
> Now, whose happy that Jacob and Mordred finally kissed????
> 
> I know it's a short chapter (a little under 400 words compared to my normal minimum requirement of 3,000 words a chapter), but in this case, I felt that it was better to focus on the main points, and skim out anything that could be considered filler material, ya know? Especially in this chapter, it's a case of quality over quantity!
> 
> Also, what are your thoughts on what's going to happen next? :)
> 
> Here is the discord link to the forum that TheReaperD, DraketheDragon, and myself created. Feel free to join and get to talk about FGo and just Fate stuff in general! :) https://discord.gg/VWvZ6sgavF
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Who would be interested if Studio Type-Moon created a series covering the very first Holy Grail War? The second question is: anyone got any exciting plans for New Year's Eve? And for the third time ever, what is the best worst movie or movie series you have ever seen? (Example given being the *shudders* Sharknado franchise).
> 
> Thanks a bunch to everyone for the love and support y'all have given me, and for giving this work a try! Eager to see how you guys react to what I've done. Finally, I really hoped you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next week with the aftermath! :)


	49. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred deal with the fallout of the previous night, and Jacob makes a new friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! This is my present to everyone, so I hope you enjoy comedy, angst, and tea! Not much else to say, saving that for the end notes, so enjoy and see you all in the end notes!

It was with great effort that I forced open my eyes. I felt exhausted, or maybe it would be better described as feeling drained, but at least I didn’t have another one of those blasted dream/memories. Recently, they seemed to be ones from my other Servants, though not as frequent or vivid as Mordred’s. I started to push myself into an upright sitting position when I finally realized that something seemed different.

I stilled slightly as I felt something warm wrapped against my torso. I blinked in confusion, looking down to see a slim yet muscular arm embracing me. Tightly. I looked to the side, and the memories of last night came rushing back as I noticed a sleeping Mordred tightly cuddling me.

That’s right, I confessed to her how I felt. We kissed. It felt fantastic. There was still one question, however, that _had_ to be answered.

What were we now?

We certainly weren’t going to ignore the whole mess that last night had been, and honestly, a part of me refused to allow that possibility to happen. I meant what I had said, to the Knight of Rebellion, that I love Mordred Pendragon. And, if her response is any good indicator, she had similar feelings towards me.

I wanted to get up and pace, but Mordred was apparently a bit clingy in her sleep. While it wasn’t exactly physically uncomfortable (indeed, it was rather adorable), it did mean that I was unable to move, and so I just patiently awaited my blonde partner to wake up.

After around ten minutes, I felt her body shifting slightly, and I looked down, sensing she was close to awaking.

Mordred’s eyes slowly opened, and she blinked sleepily, part of her hair sticking up. I was unable to hide the soft snicker of amusement at how adorable a sleepy Mordred looked. In hindsight, I should have tried harder to suppress the sound.

Mordred made a high-pitched yelping sound as her cheeks exploded into a bright red, and before I knew it, both of her palms and her feet (thankfully she had swapped into her ‘everyday’ clothing before we got into my bed) against my side and sent me _flying_ from my bed.

I landed in a sprawled heap, groaning as my back hit the cold tiles. I heard Mordred gasp slightly as she realized what she had just done, and two emerald orbs looked at me.

“Oh, shit! Jacob, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” I groaned, pushing myself up off of the ground and staring at Mordred with a lopsided smile. “So, how ya feeling? Better, I hope?”

Mordred immediately looked away, and for a moment, she looked vulnerable. I didn’t comment, just sitting on the cold floor, watching and waiting patiently for her to finish formulating her response. Finally, Mordred nodded slowly, before looking into my eyes, a look of unease present.

“Did you really mean those words you said last night?” Mordred asked softly, looking tense, apprehensive. I found myself cursing Morgan yet again, but I quickly smothered the flames of anger before they could turn into an inferno. I fixed my eyes onto hers.

“You are my knight,” I said, flinching slightly on the inside as I realized just how cheesy it sounds. “I have been, and always will be, proud to be by your side.”

Mordred scoffed, rolling those lovely eyes of hers, before smirking. “Idiot,” she said affectionately, reaching out and ruffling my hair up playfully. Thankfully, seeing as how I already had a bad case of bedhead, the action couldn’t make it any worse.

“Indeed. We’re still partners, you and I. That just includes romantically as well,” I said with a simple smile.

“You make it sound so simple,” Mordred grumbled, though with a small, cautious smile. I shrugged casually.

“Hey, we might encounter some bumps here and there from time to time, but we’ll get through them. Together,” I said with a smirk, and Mordred snorted in amusement at my lighthearted response. Then, almost in unison, both of our stomachs let out loud rumbling noises, causing us both to blush in embarrassment.

“Well, looks like we know now what today’s next order of business is going to be. Let’s get ready and then go eat,” I quipped, and Mordred nodded in agreement.

* * *

I couldn’t help but feel slightly self-conscious when we stepped into the cafeteria. I resisted the urge to rub at the mark on my neck, but all it would do would be to bring more attention to it.

After Mordred and I had finished our little heart-to-heart, we had taken turns getting ready. Mordred had gone first, and then it was my turn. Looking into the mirror, I couldn’t help but sigh at the hickey Mordred had given me. At least it didn’t really hurt, especially considering that it had come from a (rather impulsive) Servant.

Thankfully, our entrance didn’t draw too many stares, and furthermore, the cafeteria was rather empty today. Mordred and I went our separate ways and followed our basic breakfast routine, before sitting down at our normal table.

As always, Mordred had two to three times as much food on her tray as mine held, but by this point I had accepted the fact, and was able to eat my own food as she demolished hers. However, the solitude we shared wouldn’t last for much longer, it turned out.

“Looks like the two of you had a nice time last night,” Ritsuka suddenly said, sounding way too cheery. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I could see one of Mordred’s eyes twitching slightly, just like one of my own, as the other half of our quartet sat down. Mash had a mixture of a sympathetic and exasperated look on her face, while Rits grinned cheekily.

“Looks like someone’s ready for their next lesson in combat,” I retorted with an equal amount of cheer, taking a bit of pleasure at seeing Ritsuka’s grin slip off his face as he paled slightly. Also, was it my imagination, or had he looked rather stiff as he sat down? Mash coughed politely.

“Ritsuka Senpai’s lack of tact aside, are you and Mordred…er…together, now?” Mash asked, her cheeks a soft red, her eyes darting down to her tray. Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but snigger a little at the cute display given by the pink-haired girl.

“Mordred and I are partners,” I said simply, and Mash made a soft ‘Oh’ of understanding, while Ritsuka tilted his head slightly, before shrugging and accepting my response. I felt Mordred nudge my leg under the table, flashing me a quick smile of gratitude.

I nodded my head slightly towards her. I figured she would prefer to not have her dirty laundry aired to everyone, so to speak. I looked back at Ritsuka as he began eating his own breakfast. After finishing chewing and swallowing, my fellow Master resumed speaking.

“That’s good to hear. I assume you’d like to hear what happened while you two were…busy?” Ritsuka asked politely.

“I’d imagine that would be for the best, so yes. I trust everything else went well?” I asked, carefully watching the blonde knight sitting beside me from the corner of my eye. Ritsuka grunted.

“More or less. Jeanne offered to take Astolfo and Artoria for a tour, and also to Isabella to see if they had any particular outfit or clothing they would prefer.” Ha, that sounds like something the kind-hearted Ruler would do. I made a mental note to thank her for that. Even though Mordred required my absolute attention last night, I still felt bad about not finishing up a proper introduction with my newest Servant.

“There is one thing, however. Do you mind if I speak with you alone this evening?” Ritsuka asked, eyeing Mordred nervously. The Saber scoffed loudly.

“If you keep treating me like I’m going to go off about anything related to Father, I’ll be joining you and Jacob in your next training session,” she said, smirking viciously for extra emphasis.

Before Ritsuka could stammer out a reply while Mash sighed next to him, I heard a pair of footsteps drawing closer. I looked up to see the last person I was in the mood to deal with today coming to a halt a few feet away from our table.

“Master Aronson, may I ask for a moment of your time, to speak with you in private?” Artoria was standing next to us, her eyes fixed on mine. She had apparently already visited Isabella and selected her off-mission outfit. A simple white blouse and a blue skirt.

A part of me wanted to tell her to screw off, an illogical part, run by my emotions. However, I knew that it would be unwise to do so. Instead, I looked at a stiff-looking Mordred, who had a sort of panicked expression on her face. I shot her an inquisitive look, and after a moment’s hesitation, the Knight of Rebellion nodded her head slightly, albeit reluctantly.

I suppressed a weary sigh and stood up slowly, looking at the King of Knights with a guarded look.

“Very well.”

* * *

Mordred forced herself to relax as her father left the cafeteria. A gnawing sensation of frustration, however, had killed her appetite, so the Saber idly picked at her half-finished breakfast with her fork. She ignored the nervous and concerned looks Ritsuka and Shieldy were giving her, lost in her thoughts.

As a result, the Knight of Rebellion didn’t notice the danger until it was too late.

She almost jumped out of her seat in shock as a hand gripped her shoulder in a vise-like grip.

“I see that today is going to be a Girl’s Day,” Marie purred, the bubbly Rider sounding threatening for the first time that Mordred could remember. She leaned in close to Mordred’s face, before looking up at whoever was gripping her shoulder, her blue eyes alight with mischief. “What do you say, Jeanne?”

“I couldn’t agree more, Marie,” Jeanne said in her normal warm, friendly tone. Mordred tried to bolt out of her seat, but the Ruler tightened her grip, reducing the action to a vail thrashing. “Mash, would you mind accompanying us?”

“Me?” Shieldy asked, wide-eyed as a familiar (and irritating) svelte Servant wrapped one of his arms around her neck.

“No, silly, the wall! Course she means you!” Rider of Black crowed, his eyes flicking towards Mordred as she read the silent words he made with his lips. She felt her eyebrow twitching slightly in irritation at the words.

_Payback’s a bitch!_

“Actually, Ritsuka said that he needed help with his sword fighting!” Mordred said hurriedly, staring pleadingly at her partner’s fellow Master. The Japanese magus blinked.

“What’re you talking about?” He said, sounding like his normal, clueless self. Normally the knight would have been getting quite a kick out of it, but somehow the fact that it was in regards to her situation made it feel less funny than normal.

“Hmm, sounds like you’re quite free then, aren’t ya?” Astolfo said with a wide grin. His fellow French Rider nodded happily.

“ _Oui!_ And we know that _Jacob_ is preoccupied at the moment, and you’re usually either training, eating, or hanging out with him. Seeing as how the former has been ruled out, and you seem to be done eating, I think this is a perfect time for you to try something new! We’ll talk about our pasts, hobbies, _love interests_ ,” Marie said, putting an extra, teasing emphasis on those last two words.

Mordred’s eyes widened as she began to put the dots together. The Rider had quickly established herself the reputation of Chaldea’s leading gossiper, so of course the brat would want to find out everything that happened! Mordred tried to think up of a way to escape, but before she could react, Astolfo had made his way over to Mordred’s other side, and together the cross-dressing Rider and Ruler both hooked an arm around her. Using their combined strength, and before she could summon her armor or Clarent, they began dragging her away, while a hesitant Mash was urged forward by Marie.

Now unable to escape without causing some sort of mess, the knight glared and shouted out the only words she felt could accurately describe the situation at that very moment.

_“DAMN IT!”_

* * *

I paused for a moment, a chill running down my spine. I just felt like something really bad had just happened….eh, I’m sure it’s just my imagination. Shaking my head, I resumed walking.

Artoria and I spent the next few minutes walking further away from the cafeteria in silence. Finally, we had apparently reached a suitable distance, for she paused and turned around slowly, her eyes bearing into mine. The intensity they held had me swallowing slightly, despite being eight inches or so taller than her.

“What are your intentions in regards to Sir Mordred?” The words were delivered bluntly, and I couldn’t help but be further reminded of my partner just then. Then I realized just what she had asked, and how she was looking at the hickey my partner had left on my neck.

“I thought you weren’t acknowledging her presence?” I said in a mildly rebuking tone. To her credit, Artoria didn’t react to the bait, maintaining her rather impersonal persona instead.

“Despite her rebellion, I still consider Sir Mordred to be one of my knights. Therefore, it is my responsibility to look after their welfare.”

“….Just one of your knights, huh?” I said, feeling my right eyelid twitch ever so slightly. I wanted to be cordial to the legendary King of Knights, but it seemed that every time she opened her mouth, that damn goal was getting harder and harder to maintain.

Artoria nodded, her neutral mask hidden. God, how I hated that. It could be anyone, too. I just despised not being able to see a person’s true thoughts. The crinkling of the corner of the eyes. The twitch of a lip. All the little hints of how someone truly felt despite how fine or horrid words they uttered.

“I ask you again, what are your intentions towards my knight?” I exhaled, the breath coming out with a sibilant hiss.

“Mordred is her own person. She has the right to make her own choices. My ‘intentions’, as you put it, are to be the best partner I can be for her, and to make her happy,” I stated, resisting the urge to sneer, and add a mocking _‘something you failed’_. Damn it, my temper was getting the better of me.

“If you hurt her,” Artoria began to say, and two things happened.

The first was the incredulous realization that Artoria was trying to give the old parental figure lecturing boyfriend/girlfriend. The second thing was that my temper snapped.

“Like you did?” I sneered, and for once Artoria showed some sort of emotion. She recoiled, a shamed look on her face. “A bit late to be acting like the father you’re supposed to be.”

“I—”

“Save it,” I interrupted. “I neither know, nor particularly care to know, what happened. I already saw everything from Mordred’s perspective. I also saw how you killed one another. You need to decide if Mordred is your child, a knight, or an enemy. She can’t be all three, and you have no right to pick and choose between them!”

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control over my anger. “Don’t ask me this again, nor any other questions about Mordred, until you decide what your connection is between you and Mordred. We’re allies, and I will be courteous, but currently we are not friends. Good day,” I said sharply, spinning around and march down the hallway.

Thankfully, Artoria didn’t follow me, and a few minutes later, I came to a halt halfway back to the cafeteria. I stared at the wall for a few seconds, before letting out an angry hiss and kicking the wall.

“What a damn mess,” I snarled, before stiffening at the sound of movement.

“I don’t really care much for those who eavesdrop,” I said loudly. Instead of the sound of footsteps scurrying away in a hasty retreat, the hallway echoed with a bout of hearty laughter. Out from behind the corner of the intersection up ahead came a short, portly Chinese man. Despite the shape of his body, my instincts were telling me that it wasn’t flab, nor was he reminiscent of the excess Caesar’s body had displayed. He was a balding man with long, white hair, and shrewd eyes that also contained humor, mirth, and other friendly emotions. He had a lopsided smile as he stopped a few feet in front of me.

“It is hard to eavesdrop when one is virtually shouting to the high heavens,” the employee said with a dry chuckle. I couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, rubbing at the back of my head sheepishly.

“Ah, yes. I suppose I should apologize for that. Forgive an old man for checking out what he thought was a disturbance.” Despite the reproachful words that had my cheeks flushing, his tone was utterly light-hearted.

“Ah, right. This isn’t exactly the most private of settings, either. Forgive me, I’m just ruffled,” I said, taking off my hat and ruffling up my hair, falling back on one of my old habits for stress relief.

The man looked at me, stroking his beard, before finally smiling again.

“Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“…..huh?”

* * *

My newfound companion had introduced himself as Iroh Huǒlóng. Apparently, he was not only the head chef of Chaldea, but he was also an avid tea drinker. He took me over to the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty at the moment, and turned on the stove before fusing over a well-used teapot. I wasn’t able to follow the exact process of what he was doing, but I still watched in polite silence. Once the kettle was being heated by the stove, Iroh turned around and gestured at a small table in the corner, motioning for me to sit down. I did so.

However, I did have one question that was bothering me, and so I asked the older man just why he was doing this.

“Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights,” he said with a toothy grin, and I couldn’t detect any hint of deception in his voice. If he had an ulterior motive, he was doing a damn good job hiding it. I hummed in response but fell silent, still focused on relaxing from my spat with Artoria.

Finally, the tea was ready, and he brought over a small tray with the kettle and two plain teacups resting on the surface.

“This is jasmine tea,” Iroh began to explain, placing one cup in front of me, and a second before him. “It’s a very good and relaxing tea. Have you ever tried tea before, by any chance?”

“No, I haven’t. I usually stick to water,” I admitted. Iroh’s constant smile grew wider, and he chuckled softly, picking up the kettle and pouring out some of his brew into both of the cups with impressive ease. Setting the kettle back onto the tray, Iroh eased himself into the free chair and wrapped his fingers around his cup.

“Well, then, you’re in for quite a treat!” He said, raising his cup and making a gesture of cheers that I tentatively repeated, before raising his cup to his lips.

Iroh took a long sip of tea, letting out a loud sigh of contentment when he swallowed.

“Ah, there is nothing like a well-made cup of jasmine tea to soothe the nerves,” Iroh Huǒlóng said breezily, lowering his cup and staring across the small table at me. Turns out, this was Chaldea’s head chef, and an avid tea savant.

I stared at the steaming mug of tea he had prepared and poured out for me. I had never tried tea before, and so couldn’t help but stare cautiously at the contents inside the china. Iroh chuckled. “Go on, give it a try. It’s an old family recipe that has never yet disappointed even the most ardent coffee drinker,” the elderly man said, his face scrunching up slightly at the mention of the caffeinated beverage.

Not wishing to come across as churlish, I raised the brim of the cup to my lips, and blew softly, not wanting to somehow burn my tongue. Once I felt satisfied with that, I took a small sip. My eyes lit up as a wonderful, relaxing taste entered my mouth. It wasn’t bitter, nor was it too sweet. It tasted _good._ Really good.

Apparently, my expression of enjoyment was plain to see, for Iroh leaned back and laughed happily. “I see that the recipe has acquired yet another fan, huh?” He said jovially.

“It’s very good,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“Glad to be of help. Perhaps sometime, I could tempt you into trying another old family recipe?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” I said, before tilting my head slightly in curiosity. “So, you’re from a family of tea savants or something?” I asked.

“Not quite. My family used to be key court magicians for the emperors of various dynasties in China. From the Shang and Zhao, until the fall of the Ming. No matter who the emperor was, we were always respected, and feared. The Fire Dragons,” Iroh said fondly. “That is what we were called. We’re still one of the foremost magus families in China, too. I’m the current head of the .”

Huh, so he was a pyromancer. A pyromancer and a wielder of ice, having a cup of tea. I’m sure there was some sort of joke to be found in there.

“So why is the current head of a reputable and venerable family working as a mere chef at Chaldea?” I asked, blurting out my question before I could catch myself. I winced slightly, nervous about the possibility of having offended the magus, but Iroh merely laughed.

“Oh ho, don’t look like that. The answer is quite simple. I wanted to have some peace, away from my family.”

“Succession disputes?” I said with a hint of distaste. I always thought that the way that the vast majority of mages took the issue to an unreasonable level. A look of sadness appeared on Iroh’s face as he nodded.

“I had a son. He was a wonderful man. A good man. He would have been a wonderful heir.”

“Was?” I asked softly, not missing the underlying meaning to Iroh’s words.

“He died twenty years ago in a vehicular accident. My family lost its heir apparent to our Magic Crest, but more importantly, I lost my son. Now, my niece and nephew are competing over the position.”

“Who do you think would be better?” I asked cautiously.

“My niece is an ill-tempered, arrogant woman. She is closer to a traditional mage, and many in the family consider her to be the most viable candidate. As you might be able to tell, I disagree with that sentiment.”

“So, you prefer your nephew, then?”

“I did not say that. He has a good heart, a desire to maintain his own honor. However, he has yet to realize what he wants in life.”

“Oh?” I asked, taking another long sip of tea before placing it down, needing to refill. Before I could reach to refill the cup, however, Iroh deftly poured more tea from the teapot, and I muttered a soft thanks.

“Yes. But, enough listening to an old man,” Iroh said with a lopsided smile. “Why not tell me more about yourself?”

I blinked, before narrowing my eyes slightly, searching the tea master’s eyes for any sort of ulterior motive.

“Well, I’m an oddity in that I am both an American magus and also one whose family doesn’t have a Magical Crest,” I said cautiously. Iroh raised an eyebrow at that last part, no doubt especially because of how relatively flippant I was about admitting that fact. Almost every magus family, no matter how big or small, would dare admit to such a fact. Almost.

“Oh? Sounds like a story there,” Iroh commented, his voice only holding curiosity. I shrugged.

“The last member of my family to grasp our Crest was killed over in America in 1776. It proved well-hidden or something. Some of the other magus families did what they do best: scheme and backstab. In less than a hundred years we lost all influence, and were on the verge of being wiped out, or so I’ve been told. Then, my great-great-grandfather heard word of a supposed sighting, and the remains of our family moved there. We never did recover our Crest, but we found ourselves happy in America.”

“It doesn’t bother you, not having a Crest?” Iroh said incredulously. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Crazy though it may sound, not one bit. Sure, many people consider me to be a third-rate magus at best, but I’m happy with my life….more or less,” I added sheepishly, as Iroh raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm….a third-rate magus without a Crest, saving the world? That is certainly going to leave a bitter taste in many a magus’s mouth,” he mused, and I couldn’t help but wince. Oh, hell, that was going to be a problem, alright.

“That can be dealt with at a later date. I was born on June 8th, 1998. I have no siblings, but two loving parents…”

As I continued conversing with Iroh, I found myself happy with the fact that I had apparently made yet another friend here at Chaldea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like making a new friend while bonding over a well-brewed cup of tea! Yes, this Iroh is based off of General Iroh from Avatar, so I hope no one rips my face off. I just wanted to make a staff member of Chaldea that Jacob could have as a friend who could give advise without using an internet idol (sorry Roman). But what did you guys think?
> 
> Also, nothing more fun than writing Mordred being awkward at relationships! A hill has been climbed, and now onto the mountain.....or something. Still, did you think that it was a cute opening? :)
> 
> Ah, Artoria, how you use words so skillfully.....or not. Yeah, who totally saw this issue working out well between Artoria and Jacob in the short-term? XD
> 
> Also, looks like Astolfo is getting his revenge in a way! Course, that does make for another chapter that'll make me nervous tow rite, because a good chunk of it is going to be the Marie-hosted 'Girl Time', but hey, it'll be interesting!
> 
> Which brings me to an important announcement. I am most likely not going to publish chapter 50 until after New Years. If I do manage, then great! But if I am gone for over a week or something, don't want y'all to be freaking out lol. Also, another exciting piece of news: I'm planning on resuming the SummerFes story in a few weeks! Who is excited about that? :)
> 
> Anyways, as always, what did you guys think?
> 
> Now, for the fun part, the questions! First up, seeing as how Covid-19 and 2020 has been a year from hell, what's the best event you've had happen this year? Second question, for those who play FGO, which Servant are you hoping to get in the New Year summoning campaign 5-star Servant guarantee? I'm hoping for Ereshkigal myself.
> 
> Anyways, now that's all over, thank you guys and gals once again for the lovely support, and encouragement! Hope you enjoyed another chapter, and I eagerly await to read y'alls thoughts and comments, and I wish you all an early happy New Years! See you by 2021!


	50. Girl's Talk, Training, and Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred gets interrogated, Jacob and Ritsuka do some training, and Jacob discovers a surprising side to Mordred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to 2021! Hope everyone had a decent if not good NYE. Here's the first chapter for The Will to Fight to be posted in 2021, so I hope you enjoy and see you down below!

Marie had led the group to one of the staff lounges that was apparently in the process of being retrofitted by the energetic pipsqueak of a Rider. In the center was a round table (thankfully nowhere near reminiscent of the true Round Table), with a vase of flowers

“I’m planning on turning this into some sort of lounge for we Servants. I just got the necessary permission from both dear Doctor Roman and Da Vinci to truly start the project!” Marie explained excitedly, with excited looks from Astolfo and Jeanne, and a thoughtful look from Mash.

Mordred, however, barely managed to suppress the derisive snort she felt the urge to do. It seemed extravagant and unneeded. Still, she sat down, though not before everyone else had. It was lost on her how the only seats that were left for her all were the ones furthest from the only door in the room. Damn.

She huffed in frustration, crossing her arms pointedly and plopping down onto the chair. She ignored the stares of the three female and one male occupant across from her. Whatever they had imagined, they were going to soon learn that Mordred wasn’t one to crack under this kind of pressure!

A minute turned into five. Five minutes became ten. Ten became fifteen, and so on. Still, no one had spoken. Finally, Marie sighed just before the twentieth or so minute had passed. Mordred smirked at the victory. Maybe it was petty of her, but the blonde knight had never claimed to be above pettiness.

“So….how was it?”

“How was what?” Mordred said, her smirk vanishing as she crossed her arms, glaring defiantly at the unrepentant Rider. The knight knew _exactly_ what Marie was asking about, but Mordred wasn’t going to play along.

“The kiss, silly!” Marie giggled softly, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. Mordred’s glare intensified as Astolfo tittered next to Ritsuka’s Rider. “The first kiss of a maiden. It’s something that you can only experience once! Come on, tell us all about it!” Mordred instantly bristled, glaring at the former queen.

“I’m not a maiden!” Even as she shouted those words angrily, Mordred began to feel a sinking pit form in her stomach as the Rider’s glove moved away to reveal a rather-sinister grin.

“Oh, I see you’re feeling shy,” Marie said with another titter. Instead of sounding like her normal, irritating, innocent sound, the Knight of Rebellion felt it reminiscent of an alarm. “Maybe I should break the ice on this topic, as they say these days.”

“Miss Marie—”Mash tried to say as Mordred felt her jaw drop. Jeanne stared at her friend wide-eyed, while Astolfo placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Let me recount to you, my friends, about how my first kiss with my beloved husband was like!” Someone, kill her again! No, better yet, someone kill Marie! Alas, the knight knew in the back of her mind that there was no escaping this. “We had just finished exchanging our wedding vows when Louis and I kissed. He was so handsome, even then at the age of fifteen. I was one year his junior, but that’s besides the point,” Marie began, a faraway, misty look in her eyes that was making Mordred begin to feel somewhat nauseous.

“You were fourteen?” Mash interrupted incredulously. Far from being annoyed at the interruption, Marie maintained that deceptively sweet smile of hers, nodding at the Demi-Servant whilst also prolonging the torture.

“Oh, yes. It wasn’t all that uncommon back in my day. Now, where was I? Ah, yes! He smelt like a mixture of vanilla and roses. When I pressed my lips against his, I found them to be soft and warm. It felt like a spark had been ignited in my heart. The resulting flames of passion quickly spread through out my body, unleashing a rush of wonderful and exotic sensations in every fiber of my body! Why, I almost even felt aro—”

“MARIE!” Jeanne said in a shocked and scandalized tone, her face bright red, as was Mash’s. Judging by how warm her own face felt, however, it was nowhere near as bright a shade as her own. Marie merely giggled once again, smiling unapologetically.

“My dear Jeanne, I’m just simply trying to give Mordred here an idea of how to describe her first kiss. Besides, you interrupted the best part!” There was more? Oh, hell no! Mother’s training was a breeze compared to this shit! With a frustrated growl, Mordred slammed her right fist against the surface of the wooden table, silencing the Rider.

“Stop! If it will get you to shut up, I’ll talk!” Mordred almost howled. She wanted to summon her armor and Clarent, and fight her way out of it, but she refused to act like the brute she knew many people believed her to be. Plus, she wasn’t in the mood to see the disappointed look her Mas-partner would give her afterwards.

Thankfully, it seemed her words had saved her from whatever Marie had wanted to add. The royal Rider leaned back slightly in her chair, with a smile befitting a cat that had gotten the canary and gotten away with it. “So, how was it?”

“It…it felt good,” Mordred said, and somehow, she managed to blush _more_ , as she felt ghost sensations of Jacob’s lips pressing against hers, and vice versa. “I know it sounds stupid, but that’s the best way to describe it.”

Astolfo pouted childishly, no doubt having wanted to hear more. Jeanne and Mash had misty-eyed looks in their eyes as they smiled at Mordred (she totally didn’t feel creeped out about that, by the way. Not. One. Damn. Bit). The instigator of this whole, mess, however, nodded in understanding. Mordred was hard-pressed to hide the wave of relief swamping her body. If Marie had pressed for any more information, then she would have used her Mana Burst ability to dart back out in the quasi-labyrinth of hallways and escape.

“Then it was a good kiss. I’m glad you and Jacob both finally realized your feelings towards one another. Now, on to the second part of this little get-together!” Marie said, clapping her hands together softly while she turned to Mash. Jeanne had a knowing look in her eyes as she also stared at the pink-haired girl.

Mordred had a feeling that she knew what the supposed ‘Flower of Versailles’ was talking about. Kinda hard to not notice how often Shieldy stared at Ritsuka. It honestly reminded her a bit of Lancelot and his admirers, in a way. Which she found to be hilariously ironic, considering how she knew the identity of the Servant the girl had contracted with.

“Miss Marie?” Mash asked, a look of mild concern and confusion present. Marie leaned over the table slightly, though not as extravagantly or overt like Rider of Black was.

“So, Mash, tell me, how does Ritsuka make you feel?” Marie asked, the seriousness of her voice at odds with the smile on her lips. Mash’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“W-What are you talking about? S-Senpai’s—” Mash stammered, trying to deny Marie’s insinuation.

“We all know that you seem to have feelings for Ritsuka,” Ruler said gently. Mash stilled, her eyes wide with panic. As much as she enjoyed fighting alongside the Demi-Servant, if asked, Mordred wouldn’t deny that she was enjoying being an observer this time around.

“I just want to know if it is a crush, or something more,” Marie added. Mash didn’t answer for a few minutes, swallowing and looking around with a lost and confused expression on her face. Finally though, she broke that silence, looking down at her lap as she spoke.

“I…I think I love him,” Mash finally admitted. Marie smiled gently once the pink-haired girl looked up.

“How does he make you feel?”

“He makes me feel good. Special. For all his…immaturity, Doctor Roman also helped me feel happy. But Ritsuka Senpai makes me feel something I’ve never felt before,” Mash said, babbling a little bit in uncertainty. Marie, Jeanne, and Astolfo exchanged glances.

“Reminds you any of a certain gray-haired homunculus?~” Rider of Black asked the saint with a playful lilt to his voice.

“Not the time,” Jeanne hissed, looking fluttered, and Mordred snickered softly at that. “I bet it is getting frustrating, at the very least, to see how he’s still not picking up on you hints and gestures, huh?” Jeanne asked, pointedly ignoring the snickering of Mordred and Astolfo, the knight finally finding something she shared with the eccentric paladin: teasing Ruler.

“Y-Yes,” Mash admitted, stifling what sounded like a growl. Marie smiled brightly, popping out of her chair and almost bouncing over to a now-startled Mash.

“Well then, I guess it’s time to fix that, _oui?_ I, Marie Antoinette, will gladly offer my advice and knowledge in these matters! First things first, we got to expand your wardrobe!”

“Huh?” Mash asked as Marie tugged her up onto her feet, her words echoing the confusion Mordred felt.

“Don’t worry, Mash! With my help, you’ll be turning heads when you’re in public! Or perhaps,” Marie added with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes disturbingly similar to Merlin’s, “the head of a certain Master, _non?_ ”

Mash made a damn good impression of a dying fish, her mouth opening and shutting at an impressive rate for the next few minutes. Jeanne shot the demon-in-hiding a reproachful look as she gently swatted the Rider’s right arm. “Marie! Don’t tease Mash,” she said, though Mordred felt that the soft smile the Ruler was trying to hide kinda ruined the effort.

More importantly, however, it seemed that everyone had stopped paying attention to her!

 _‘Maybe this is my chance to escape,’_ Mordred thought to herself hopefully, before realizing she had lost track of Astolfo. She instinctively began gritting her teeth when she felt a hand gripping her right shoulder.

“To Isabella’s, then?” Rider of Black asked gleefully behind the knight, while Mordred felt her blood run cold at the mention of the insane seamstress mage.

Oh, no….

* * *

Ritsuka and I were once again in the sparring ring. While I may have sounded joking this morning about my response to Ritsuka’s playful jab, I had fully intended to hold another ‘lesson’ with my friend. Of course, it wasn’t going to be anywhere near as rough as I had made it sound.

After finishing my tea and my conversation with Iroh, and also being given the promise to expect more ‘tea meetings’, as the Chinese mage had called them, I had returned to the cafeteria, curious to see if Ritsuka, Mash, and Mordred were still there, or if any of them had left yet. After all, it _had_ been a few hours since Artoria requested to ‘speak’ with me.

I had discovered that only Ritsuka was still there, fidgeting with his phone. It had looked like my fellow Master had been perusing through the photo gallery the device contained, but I didn’t ask, especially after noticing the sad, longing expression he had. Something I myself felt every time my gaze fell upon the photograph of my parents and I that rested on my nightstand.

After briefly explaining to him what had happened on my end, Rits told me that Mordred and Mash had been invited (or in Mordred’s case, forced) to have a ‘girl’s time’ session with Marie, as well as her fellow French compatriots Jeanne and Astolfo.

A part of me instantly felt that such news was rather grim, and that there was almost no chance that it would end well for Mordred. On the other hand, however, I also saw a golden opportunity. I hadn’t failed to notice that, outside of deployments, Mordred seemed to have essentially spent all of her time either eating, with me, or training, or some combination of those three.

As much as I loved spending time with the plucky blonde knight, I would be hard-pressed to deny that it didn’t feel too healthy a situation for her. Aside from me, I had no idea if Mordred had bothered making friends with anyone else. Even if she wasn’t willing in this instance, perhaps Marie’s actions would be the first step towards my Saber making more friends, or at the very least, learn to open up to others in some way.

Still, the news had left me little to do, and with Ritsuka looking down and depressed, I decided that what better time to teach my fellow Master another lesson in self-defense?

“Your stance has gotten better,” I observed as I took a half-step backwards, my fellow Master mimicking the movement.

“Chiron helped me out with that during the last few nights in Rome,” Ritsuka admitted. He looked a bit embarrassed, perhaps, and I made a soft, thoughtful clicking sound with my tongue, whilst nodding my approval. I had yet gotten a chance to suggest that Ritsuka seek advice from the teacher of many of Greece’s famous heroes, or for that matter any of the other Servants. So, it was both impressive and a relief to see my friend taking the initiative on that front.

“I couldn’t imagine a finer person to help you out with that,” I responded, before darting forwards. I lashed out with my right leg, trying to sweep Ritsuka off of his feet, but to my pleasure the Japanese magus hadn’t lowered his guard while we were talking.

Rits leapt backwards, not only avoiding my leg strike but also pushing himself out of my range to deliver a palm strike. Then, to my pleasure, as I moved to readjust my posture, Ritsuka dashed forward, throwing a right hook.

While I had blocked it rather easily, I had only seconds to both note and register why my fellow Master was smirking.

Seconds to late.

_SMACK!_

I instinctively rubbed my cheek, flashing Ritsuka a pleased grin. While it hadn’t broken anything, the blow had shown a rather tactical aspect now in his fighting, as opposed to the amateurish and eye-cringing skill (or rather more accurately, the lack of _any_ skill) he had originally displayed during our first few spars.

“Good, good!” I said with praise, and Ritsuka’s cheeks flushed as he looked down at his feet a bit bashfully. “I think this is a great time to call it a night for training. Next time, we’re going to start using swords.” While he smiled excitedly, his eyes had a pinch of wariness.

“This isn’t a trick to get me to lower my guard or something, is it?” He asked pointedly, blue eyes narrowed. I snickered slightly as I remembered the incident he was referencing in his remark.

The day before we had been Rayshifted to Rome, I had feigned being defeated by Rits, and the moment he had lowered his guard, I had knocked him off of his feet and pinned him to the mat, reminding him to never let his guard down around an opponent, even if they appeared to have been defeated.

“No tricks, I swear,” I said with a lopsided smile, holding my palms up in the air as a further gesture of sincerity. “Come on, it’s starting to get late. Let’s grab some grub,” I added, taking note of the time. It was almost seven in the evening, and while I couldn’t speak for Ritsuka, I knew I was certainly hungry!

“That sounds like a grand idea. Maybe a shower too, before bed,” Rits replied, raising an eyebrow and smelling the underarm of his t-shirt. His nose wrinkled up as he quickly leaned his head away.

“Won’t hear arguments from me. Now, come on, let’s eat!”

* * *

After we had finished our dinner, Ritsuka and I had called it an early day, and went to our respective rooms. Upon returning, I took a quick shower, wishing to rid myself of the pungent smell of sweat. The warm water also had the added benefit of relaxing the sore muscles.

Rits was quickly becoming a worthwhile sparring partner, at least, in regards to hand-to-hand. Tomorrow, though, I would get to see how much work he’ll need in order to become skilled with a blade. Actually, scratch that. First thing, I’ll need to see if the training swords will be suitable for him in the first place. After all, no matter how much training Rits might receive, if all of it is learnt with a sword that doesn’t suit him, no sincere progress could be made.

But, again, that was a matter for another day.

I also made a mental note tomorrow to check on Mordred first thing in the morning. Mordred and Mash hadn’t joined us for dinner. Either they had eaten earlier while Ritsuka and I had been training, or they were still busy and so therefore hadn’t eaten yet.

I blinked at the sudden knocking on my door. “Yes?” I asked loudly, hurriedly finishing putting on my shirt. Rather than getting a verbal response to my query, the unlocked door _whooshed_ open, and an extremely haggard-looking Mordred tromped in. The knight had an almost haunted look in her eyes.

“Long day?” I asked. It seemed to be the (relatively speaking, of course) safest question to ask my partner considering that she was glowering at me even before I had asked.

“That’s one way to describe it,” she groused, closing the door behind her. “There’s something really wrong with both Marie and Isabella. They make _Merlin_ look sane!”

“Well, at least it’s over, right?” I said, wanting to try to shift her focus onto the silver lining of her conversation. A part of me felt somewhat excited, though. Sure, Mordred would vehemently disagree over enjoying it, but she hadn’t stormed off.

Though, that could be perhaps a little less than willing on her end. Still, at least she had some form of interaction with some of the other Servants in Chaldea, and considering what had happened yesterday, the bar _was_ rather low in terms of improvements.

Instead if responding with words, my partner released a long, low growl of frustration as she shrugged off her red leather jacket before tossing it at me without warning. My eyes widening, I spluttered in mild surprise as the article of clothing briefly obscured my vision.

When I finally managed to remove the jacket, I saw that the Saber had thrown herself face first onto the left side of the bed. The same side she had been using when we had fallen asleep last night. The same place I had woken up to find myself embraced by the one I had confessed my feelings to.

I couldn’t help but blush at both the sight as well as the from the memories of both last night and waking up this morning. Still, I wasn’t sure if I was properly reading the moment.

“Mordred, what are you doing?” I asked in confusion. Even if I am arguably the one she was closest to, even I would find myself unable to decipher her actions and the logic she had behind them from time to time.

“Idiot,” Mordred said, though the muffled word doesn’t sound like an actual insult, “I’m getting ready for bed!”

….Say what now?

“Um, don’t you think that this is maybe, you know, moving a bit too fast?” I asked with what I felt was a reasonable amount of caution in my voice. While I personally didn’t mind the idea of sharing a bed with my partner once again (last night had been a wonderful, sleepless night, after all), I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the Knight of Rebellion was rushing into things a bit too quickly.

“Don’t care,” Mordred grumbled, her occasional childish nature presenting itself at that moment. Even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to see it, I shrugged my shoulders. One of the things I have come to discover about the knight: when she sets her mind on something, it is damn difficult to change it.

“Fair enough, I suppose,” I added as I started to neatly fold up her pricey leather jacket that she had so carelessly tossed to the side. When I had finished doing so, I placed it down on the center of my desk before another thought popped into my head. Romantically involved or not, if this was going to become a daily reoccurrence (and it was looking pretty damn likely), it might be a good idea to bring up the idea of getting Mordred a set of nightwear.

“You know, if this is going to become a regular occurrence for us, you’re going to have to order some pajamas, right?” I ask with an arched eyebrow as Mordred finally lifted her head from the pillow that she had been burying her face into, and looked up at me.

“If you’re going to make a such a fuss over fixing my ‘lack’ of sleepwear, you can deal with that nutjob,” Mordred said, simultaneously pouting and glaring in the same expression. “And if you get me something girly, partner or not, you’re going to be my target dummy for the next week!” I nodded and raised my hands, palms out, in a placating gesture.

“Fair enough. Any other requests for it?”

“Something simple.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I said breezily, turning off the overhead light and gingerly easing myself under the covers of my bed. I had barely finished covering myself with the bedsheets when I found myself being wrapped up in a vice-like grip by two slender yet muscular arms. The warm body pressing up against my right side felt good, almost natural.

Still, who knew that Mordred, the Knight of Rebellion, was a cuddler?

“Good night, Mordred,” I said affectionately, risking a kiss to the top of her head that had her squirming against me. I heard a muttered, embarrassed-sounding ‘good night, and then closed my eyes, enjoying the comfort of her embrace.

“Good night, Idiot.”

* * *

Amidst a gloomy-looking, mist-shrouded forest stood a tall tower made of some unnatural black stone. Barely a sound could be heard. No cheerful chirping of birds. No buzzing of insects flying. No chittering of squirrels searching for food.

That wasn’t to say that the location was noiseless. If someone were present outside the tower, they would have heard the faint sounds of two voices. One male, one feminine. They sounded distorted, almost as if the speakers were underwater.

_“Good night, Mordred.”_

_“Good night, idiot.”_

Then, a shrill, angry scream filled the forest as the sole occupant of the tower made known their anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Who do you think the person in the tower is? Did anyone see Mordred being into cuddling? Also, how badly did I mess up writing the talk scene? In other words: What did you guys think?
> 
> It is a really big relief to be done with the talk scene. In hindsight, I probably overthought how to write it, but still, I hope it was okay, even if some of the characters (possibly) acted a bit OOC, but hey, this is a fanfic after all!
> 
> Now, some important updates. Next chapter, we are starting the Third Singularity. I have story ideas for the downtime scenes, but a vast majority of them might end up distracting me from the main plot. The original chapter 51 was such an example. I was originally going to make it a collection of short-one shots set over the time between the end of chapter 50 and the allotted time length before the next deployment, but I started to feel like they would be a distraction. I won't be dismissing them, however, and in addition to resuming my SummerFes story, I already started my first of a series of one-shots, titled 'Lament of the King'. I am also thinking of making a short story series focused on writing the reaction of Jacob, Ritsuka, Mash, Mordred, and others for the summoning of each Servant that will happen off-screen. If I do, would any of you be interested in that?
> 
> For anyone interested in a Mordred character-centric story, I highly recommend giving DraketheDragon's 'Sometimes the Fire Burns too Hot Inside' a try. Also, if you would like to join a Fate/Stay Night and related fandoms oritented discord forum, here's the link for the one I run: https://discord.gg/4AKgJTPYdn
> 
> Now, for the questions of the day! First question: For non f2p FGO players, what did you get for your guaranteed Servant? I got Ishtar.  
> Second question: Which of the Pseudo-singularities do you think is the best one? Finally, what do you think Artoria and Mordred's relationship is going to be like in this story? :)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! All the support, love, and feedback and all during 2020 for this story was fantastic, and I look forward to another year keeping y'all entertained and seeing what happens! As always, please feel free to leave thoughts, comments, critiques, ectara! I hope you enjoyed yet another chapter, and I can't wait to see what y'all have to say! Have a wonderful night, stay safe, and see you in the next chapter!


	51. Sealed Ends of the Four Seas: Okeanos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ritsuka relives a moment from the past, and our heroes get briefed before heading off to the Third Singularity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a week! Here's some good news at least, with a new chapter! Time to start the Third Singularity! Hope you enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

_Ritsuka was standing inside an odd-looking room. It looked quite similar to his own one, if it wasn’t for the fact that the walls seemed to be made of glass. What was going on?_

‘I woke up at the same time today.’ _The words seemed to have been imprinted into his mind._ ‘I checked my temperature. My five senses. To drive the point home, I said my name out loud. A deep breath—I confirmed my consciousness, as I was told it might disappear each time I fell asleep. I was myself. My existence had been approved for one more day.’

_The voice sounded eerily familiar. But yet, it couldn’t be…?_

_“Good morning, number two,” Another familiar voice, this one being spoken aloud, jolted Ritsuka back into the moment, as an equally familiar man stood on the other side of the glass wall that also contained the only entrance in and out of the space. “Aren’t you cold? The temperature outside is 70 below. It’s especially cold this morning,” Doctor Roman said, before blinking and rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, something Ritsuka had noticed was a nervous tic of his at times. “Well, I suppose that’s irrelevant as long as you’re in this room.”_

_‘_ There, in that clean, comfortable room, I said what came to my mind.’ _The voice that spoke aloud was when Ritsuka realized just who it was he was re-living the past with. “That’s quite troublesome,” Mash said in a soft, somewhat emotionless tone._

_He wanted to grab her shoulders, stare her in the eyes, and ask her to please tell him what was happening, why Roman had called her number two, and why would she have to worry about her consciousness vanishing? Alas, he couldn’t. Doctor Roman tilted his head slightly as he leaned forward intently, pure concern in his eyes._

_“Any inconveniences?” Asked the future acting-director, before giving off a reassuring smile. “If there’s something you don’t like, please, let me know.” The way Roman had said that, the troubled look in his eyes…Ritsuka knew that there was more to his statement then it appeared. Then Mash’s thoughts flooded Ritsuka’s brain once again._

‘He smiled as he told me that, and gave a very pained looked. I thought, perhaps, that part of his body was in pain.’ _“Are you okay?” Mash asked. Roman didn’t answer for a few seconds, before nodding slightly._

_“Yeah, I’m fine. Guess my worries were unwarranted,” he said, the last part softly and possibly meant for his ears only. Then he gave a more happy-looking smile. “Congrats on your 5,110 th awakening.” Awakening?_

_“Thank you very much,” Mash responded, and Ritsuka experienced a wave of genuine pleasure and relief running over him. Then he felt a sharp, piercing sensation in the back of his mind, and everything started to turn white. The last words Ritsuka heard in his mind was his close friend saying_ ‘I was extremely happy. For one more day, I’d get to enjoy the wonders of this world.’

* * *

Ritsuka bolted upright, a thin sheen of sweat dripping down his forehead as he let out a sharp gasp. A second gasp follows, this one of pain as he feels something bite his ankles, before moving towards his lap.

“Fou, fou, fou!” Fou chirped, Mash’s pint-sized pet looking up at Ritsuka with what he could swear to be concern.

“Ow…” Ritsuka said with a groan as he noticed a horrified-looking Mash.

“N-No Fou!” She said in her best scolding tone. “You must not bite. You should user a gentler touch. Even if he is as dense as a rock at times,” the pink-haired girl said. Ritsuka blinked, realizing also that Mash hadn’t seemed to notice he was awake.

“Dense about what?” Ritsuka said in concern. Did he miss anything important recently? Mash’s cheeks became flushed, her eyes almost the size of dinner plates.

“Oh, good morning Senpai!” Ritsuka couldn’t help but smile at the raw sincerity in her words, though at the same time they felt a little darker considering his dream.

“Good morning Mash. Now, what did you mean about me being dense?” Ritsuka asked. His confusion and curiosity were only further piqued as she frantically shook her head.

“N-Nothing! Nothing at all. You should get ready though, Senpai! Roman is starting the briefing for today’s deployment in twenty minutes,” Mash said dutifully.

“Oh, crap,” Ritsuka groaned, clumsily launching himself out of bed. In his haste, he almost slipped on the tiles as Fou dropped onto the ground. At the last second, however, Mash caught him.

“Careful, Senpai,” she gently chided him, and Ritsuka rubbed the back of his head before she gently pushed him towards his private bathroom. “Fou and I will wait for you outside, in the hallway.” With that, Mash and her enigmatic pet left the room as Ritsuka readied himself for a quick hot shower.

Now, alone in the privacy of his shower stall, he could (quietly) air the thoughts that had been swirling around in his mind even as he tried to focus on his conversation with Mash.

“What was that?” Ritsuka said to himself, one hand cupping his face as he forced his still-tense body to relax under the stream of hot water. Even as he made that statement, in the back of his mind, Ritsuka had a damn good hunch on what that had been.

While his fellow Master had (politely) refused to share the contents of them, Jacob had given a vague idea of what a shared Master-Servant dream was like. Unless he was mistaken, that had been his first one. Also, just like Jacob had mentioned multiple times, it felt like he hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep.

It made sense that it would be with Mash, one of the people he was closest to in all of Chaldea, and he wouldn’t be denied the small spark of exhilaration that finally he had tangible proof of sorts of the connection between him and his endearing kouhai.

Unfortunately, that positivity soon vanished, replaced by anxiety and fear, and even a hint of guilt. Demi-Servant or not, Mash was entitled to the right of having privacy, and that memory-dream in a way felt like a violation of that right. The main mitigating factor to this mess was that he had witnessed it involuntarily. However, that wasn’t what was really bothering him.

Ever since the first time Ritsuka, Jacob, Mash, and Mordred had dinner with one another, he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that Mash was hiding some things from he and Jacob. Now, he knew that was true. What he still didn’t know, however, was _what_ she was hiding.

Part of him wanted to, after he had gotten dressed, corner her and ask her about the dream. The part was quickly shot down though. “Maybe I should talk to Jacob about this,” Ritsuka whispered softly to himself as he turned off the water, done showering. “He always seems to have an answer for everything.”

Now finished, and dressed as one of Chaldea’s last Masters, Ritsuka stepped out, being greeted with a soft smile from Mash.

“That was quick, Senpai. Impressive! I just finished letting the Servants you wanted to bring know to meet us outside of the Rayshift Chamber,” Mash reported. Ritsuka nodded at her appreciatively.

“Good. Let’s get going. If Jacob is there before us, I might not ever hear the end of it!”

* * *

For once, Mordred, the other Servants I had selected to accompany us, and myself were the first ones present in the Rayshift Chamber. I had picked Jeanne, Sasaki, and Amadeus again, while the rest of the team was composed of some of the more recent Servants, including Astolfo.

While I had yet to summon my own Archer-class or Lancer-class Servant, I had summoned my first Lancer and Berserker-class Servants. For the former, it was a familiar face: Vlad Tepes, or as Astolfo and Jeanne had called him, Lancer of Black. It was the latter, however, who was a completely new face.

A tall, imposing-looking man in exotic-looking armor, armed with what I could best described as a double-bladed halberd, and who couldn’t speak in anything other than growls and roars. It had taken a little bit of time, but finally, in no small part thanks to Jeanne’s True Name Discernment Skill, we had discovered the identity of Chaldea’s first Berserker: Lu Bu, the mighty yet capricious warrior from the _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_.

Obviously, I was nervous about commanding a Berserker, and so this was going to be a trail run to see what Chaldea’s policy regarding the role of Berserker-class Servants should be, especially those whose Mad Enhancement reduced their ability to communicate their intentions and understanding of orders or requests.

“Looks like someone overslept,” Mordred said dryly, my partner smiling lazily in her armor.

“Hey, it happens to the best of us,” I retorted, though I failed at masking the snort of amusement her words had given me.

After about fifteen minutes, Mash, Ritsuka, and the Servants he had selected showed up. Chiron, Chulainn, Medea, and Marie were coming along. Gilles was staying back this time, however, and in his place as Ritsuka’s Saber was Nero. Another new face was a female Chinese Servant named Jing Ke, and attractive-looking, alcoholic-loving Assassin-class Servant.

“Glad it isn’t me who’s late this time,” I quipped with a lopsided smile, my words rewarded with a snort of laughter and a slight scowl from Mordred and Ritsuka, respectively.

“I didn’t sleep too well,” Ritsuka said with a slight pout. I hummed softly, looking him over and noticing that he seemed a little out of it this morning indeed.

“Understandable. Should we see if we can afford to wait another day before deploying?” I ask. Obviously, saving humanity is kinda big deal, but in order to do so, both Ritsuka and I have to be in peak condition. A single mistake in combat could get one or both of us killed, leaving the world well and truly doomed.

To his credit, Ritsuka shook his head firmly, and I could see unwavering resolve in his eyes, and steel in his voice. “No, it’s fine.” I nodded and clasped my friend’s right shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Okay. Remember, we watch out for one another,” I said with a small smile. I was also pleased to notice how Ritsuka had the _pugio_ dagger Nero had given him in our last mission strapped to his belt. While Da Vinci was finishing up the sword I had asked the Caster to make for him, at least he wouldn’t be completely weaponless.

“Looks like someone else didn’t get much rest last night, either,” Mordred said suddenly as the door opened and we all looked behind us as a familiar, endearing ginger doctor walked in. He didn’t address us until he stood at the head of the room.

“Good morning, everyone” Doctor Roman greeted us with a poorly hidden yawn. The acting-director looked haggard, with dark bags under his eyes. “I didn’t sleep much,” Roman added, noticing my raised eyebrow at the state of his appearance.

“Stayed up late again over the matters of these Grails and Lev?” Ritsuka asked. Roman made a finger-gun gesture at my fellow Master as an affirmative response.

“Yes. We defeated Lev Lainur—”

“Technically, we didn’t,” I muttered darkly, still upset over how Altera had been the one to cut down the damn traitorous scum. Jeanne nudged my side with her elbow, a reproachful look in her eyes over my interruption.

“—and retrieved the second Holy Grail,” Roman resumed speaking, not missing a beat. “That’s great, but there are more questions. Such as, what the hell was that pillar of flesh? What are these so-called Seventy-Two Demon Gods? Unfortunately, we lack the resources and the time to properly analyze these questions,” Roman finished, looking very flustered.

“Um, Doctor Roman,” Mash spoke up softly. “Speaking of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods, there is _one_ possibility,” Mash said, before pausing hesitantly. A doubtful look appeared on Roman’s face.

“Yeah, I can think of only one thing. The familiars who served a certain ancient king.” Was it just me, or did he sound just a little bit forced there?

“Ancient King?” I repeated with an arched eyebrow.

“Familiars?” Ritsuka added.

Suddenly, the door behind us slid open without warning as another familiar voice answered our twin questions. “That’s right! The King of Ancient Israel, and the greatest summoner in the world of mages!” Da Vinci said, hands on her hips with her normal mischievous glint in her eyes. Once again, her flair for theatrics was on display, it seems. “The familiars who served him were the infamous 72 Demon Gods!”

“Da Vinci?” A startled Mash yelped. The scientist Servant gave the Demi-Servant an almost predatory smile.

“Yes, good. Perfect! Mash, I love your reaction! It was worth slipping those cue cards to Roman! As a genius, my stage entries must be grand!” Da Vinci proclaimed triumphantly, one hand on her chest as she struck a suitably dramatic pose. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mordred’s expression of confusion, and almost broke out laughing. The knight looked adorable!

Roman cupped his face, shaking his head slightly as he let out a long sigh. “Please don’t tire me out so early in the morning, Da Vinci. Furthermore, please refrain from spreading rumors. None of this information is substantiated.” I cocked my head to the side slightly.

“You disagree with Da Vinci on this?” I asked. The doctor shrugged half-heartedly.

“To begin with, the seventy-two Demon Gods are all fantasies. Demon Gods don’t actually exist. These days, people speculate that they were merely familiars of the king that were broken down into seventy-two different roles, correct?” He asked Da Vinci, who nodded, though with an unconvinced expression showing on the Caster’s face.

“Yeah. But, since those roles were so clearly defined, some theorize that they may be the origin of angels. Seeing as how Lev claimed to be one, is it really unrelated? How about the hypothesis that he, or the ‘mastermind’ behind the traitor, summoned a ‘certain ancient king?’” Da Vinci postulated. I coughed politely, and Da Vinci nodded her head towards me.

“This ‘ancient king’ you keep referring to…I’m only aware of three ancient kings of Israel. Saul, David, and David’s son, Solomon the Wise. Are you suggesting that one of them is involved somehow?” Roman frowned.

“We still don’t have enough data. However, Da Vinci and I will be looking further into this. Anyhow, we’ve gotten off-track. Let’s talk about obtaining the third Holy Grail. This may seem sudden, guys, but did either of you get seasick back in Rome?”

Ritsuka and I exchanged intrigued glances before looking back at our erstwhile boss. “No, not at all,” I answered first, feeling suspicious about such a rather specific question Roman had just asked.

“Maybe a little bit, but I think that had more to do with…unexpected factors,” Rits added, nervously eyeing a thankfully oblivious Nero. Nice catch there, pal. One of the last things we need to deal with is an upset Nero!

“Good! That’s reassuring enough. I was about to get some of the motion sickness meds I keep stock of, but it looks like it won’t be needed.”

“FOU!” Fou clambered up Ritsuka’s back, and my fellow Master winced slightly as I saw the odd-looking critter secure his perch by digging in his little claws.

“Oh?” Doctor Roman asked, cocking his head slightly. “Fou is going to accompany you guys again, huh?” He rubbed his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face before her continued speaking. “I don’t consider myself to be of the superstitious sort, but I can’t deny that when Fou’s around, mash’s mental state stabilizes.” And you’re sharing this information _now_? Those words, I deeply desired to speak aloud, but I held my tongue. Mash nodded sheepishly, rubbing one hand up and down the opposite arm softly.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Roman, but whenever Fou’s nearby during a crisis, I just feel so much calmer,” Mash said in her usual apologetic tone. I had noticed that during the past few weeks, the pink-haired girl had begun to appear more assertive at times, but it was clearly still a work in progress.

“It’s fine,” Roman said with a dismissive wave of his hand, an excited smile returning to his lips. “New lands always await us with each Rayshift. The more we find familiar, the better. Now, here’s what we have found out about the Third Singularity.”

“You have our full attention,” I said solemnly.

“The year is 1573. The location? An ocean as far as the eye can see!”

“An ocean, you say?” Mash interjected with a quizzical tone.

“Right. The geography is shifting correspondingly with the Singularity. It doesn’t look like there is an area that can be specifically marked ‘here’,” Roman quickly explained. “That’s not to say that there’s not a speck of dry land there from what we can tell. There are a few islands scattered around. Your mission is to investigate the Singularity and retrieve the Grail. We’re two for two, let’s make it three for three!” Roman said in a display of energetic enthusiasm.

“Roger that.”

“I hope we don’t end up landing in the ocean,” Ritsuka commented, fidgeting nervously.

“There’s no need to worry about that. We’ll input the necessary coordinates for the Rayshift. You shouldn’t end up in the ocean. Besides,” Roman added with an uncharacteristically impish smile as he and Da Vinci exchanged a look, “you already have yet another promising ally with you.”

“Say what now?”

“Ally?” Mash asked at the same time as I. Da Vinci took over, and for the first time I noticed something had been attached to the back of the Caster’s belt. She unhooked it and brought the mysterious object to our sight.

“Here,” Da Vinci said proudly as she held a blindingly bright yellow inflatable raft with a cartoonish-designed duck head. “I invented this. It’s called a rubber floaty. You can use it in case you get into trouble!~”

I stared flatly at the self-proclaimed genius. “Invented, huh?” I deadpanned, and Mordred and a few other Servants snickered, while Mash released a long, exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly.

“I still have some worries, but we don’t have time to address all of them. Master, Jacob Senpai, I will give it everything I have.”

“Yeah, let’s do this, Mash!” Ritsuka said, pumping himself up as we began to head to our assigned coffins.

“Well, at least we can all swim if worse case comes to worse,” I said to Mordred, shaking my head slightly. Instead of one of her characteristic and brusque sounds of amusement, I heard a nervous chuckle come from the Knight of Rebellion.

“Yeah…about that…” the one I had fallen in love with started to say. I felt my jaw drop open as I stared incredulously at the blonde.

“Oh, no, please tell—”

“Let’s find the third Holy Grail!” Roman shouted as he and Da Vinci headed towards the command center. Unable to finish my though, we all hurried into the coffins. Before the glass doors closed, I quickly called over to Mordred.

“I’ll see you on the other side!” I said reassuringly, though her response, probably containing the word ‘idiot’ in there somehow, was muffled as the coffins finished sealing, and the familiar and eerie automated voice began calling out the standard Rayshifting procedures. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath...

* * *

The first thing I felt, even as I opened my eyes, was a slight swaying motion under my feet. There was a salty tang to the air, and I opened my eyes to see a clear, blue sky overhead. Apparently, we had landed on the top deck of a sailing ship.

A sailing ship whose crew was surrounding us, and looked to be pirates. They might appear to be stunned, but I highly doubt that once they recovered they were going to be interested in talking things out…

My first words to be uttered aloud in the Third Singularity were two words that I felt were most adept at describing the present situation.

“Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Quite a fitting sentiment with those two words, don't y'all think? Also, did you all enjoy the chapter? Decided now that Mordred and Jacob are a couple, I should start to focus a bit more on developing Mash and Ritsuka's relationship. Obviously, of course, Jacob and Mordred are still the main focus, but I think that if I ignore the two, I'd be signing my own execution order!
> 
> As I mentioned last chapter, a number of Servants have been summoned, but those summonings and all are going to be covered in another side story! Also, in this arc I am going to try writing Berserkers on Team Chaldea's side, so I hope I do okay! Please wish me luck!
> 
> Also, totally forgot how Da Vinci and Roman were semi-trolls in this section, so that was a blast to re-read and write! Not much else to say, other than the questions of the chapter!
> 
> First up: What's your favorite month of the year?  
> Second question: Who is your most and least favorite Servants in the Third Singularity and why?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading another chapter, and I hope y'all enjoyed! Can't wait to see what you all are going to comment, reply, and all that good jazz! Have a wonderful weekend, and see you in Chapter 52!


	52. Pirates of Chaldea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company get a rather 'warm' welcome to the Third Singularity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update, another way to kill time! Not much to say, other than I hope you enjoy and see you below!

“Well, shit,” I drawled with a sigh of exasperation. I rested one hand on the hilt of my sword, lightly gripping it but not unsheathing the blade. Yet. Some of the pirates surrounding our party seemed to have started recovering from the shock of our unannounced arrival, but the majority did seem to still be distracted. At the current rate, however, we probably only had a few minutes.

First, I quickly took note of the location we were in.

We were standing on the top deck of what appeared to be an ocean-going sailing ship. It wasn’t a huge ship, but it was fairly decent. A number of cannons were off to either side, and undoubtedly more the muzzle-loaded weapons were below deck. Thankfully, we didn’t have to worry about them being turned against us, seeing as how we were behind the barrels and all.

That didn’t mean that we were in the clear by any measure, however.

A quick look behind me had me sighing softly in relief. Unless my eyes were playing tricks, it looks like we all arrived together and in one piece. I’d have liked to also have tacked on the word ‘safely’, but our ‘hosts’ had ensured I couldn’t do so. Then, I noticed how Mash was glaring at her wrist-mounted commlink, as if communicating her displeasure through the open-line to Doctor Roman.

“Hey, Mash…” Ritsuka said nervously, eyes darting around frantically, while also breaking the silence. Mash looked at him with a sympathetic frown.

“True, we never _did_ do a Rayshift to the ocean before.”

“Well, yes, but Mash…” my fellow Master tried again, but again his kouhai interrupted the lad.

“Yes, Senpai,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I know _exactly_ what you’re trying to say. Doctor Roman, if you have any excuses, let’s hear them.” Realizing that was his cue to try and save his own skin, the doctor gulped nervously.

“ _Well…uh,”_ he stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. “ _Murphy’s law, wasn’t it? When there’s a chance for failure, you’re sure to be guided towards that failure?”_

“I thought it was, ‘whatever can go wrong, will’,” I muttered to myself as Doctor Roman valiantly pushed on with his efforts of defending himself.

 _“Also, when you think about it, it’s completely possibly to be Rayshifted onto a deserted island and wait a full twenty-eight years before help arrives, right? Then, wouldn’t you say that it’s rather beneficial to have transport immediately available?”_ While he had raised some fair arguments, they still felt kinda weak to me. And, judging from the number of skeptical faces amongst the Servants accompanying us, I wasn’t the only one who felt so.

“Fou…” Damn, even Fou, too?

“Not sure what’s going on, but get ‘em fellas!” One of the pirates, possibly the captain, called out. Crude and vicious jeers and shouts erupted from all around us. If I had to guess, somewhere between fifty to seventy-five or so male pirates of various ages were surrounding us. Apparently, our grace period was over.

“Seems like Doctor Roman needs to be disciplined after all!” Mash said pointedly.

_“Sorry, I promise I meant well!”_

“Well, looks like this is another fine mess we’re in, huh?” Mordred quipped dryly, my partner casually resting Clarent against her right pauldron. I shot the blonde knight a sidelong stare.

“Couldn’t help but make that comment, now, could you?” I said with mock exasperation, to which the Knight of Rebellion merely chortled at.

“Non-lethal?” Ritsuka asked, looking a bit hopefully. I could tell that he preferred if we resorted to killing only as a last resort when it came to fighting human opponents. Only a half dozen or so of the crowd had guns, and they were all single-shot flintlocks.

“Loser has to take second watch tonight!” I shouted in response before suddenly darting forward. The pirate I was charging took a half-step backwards as he recoiled in shock. Behind me, I heard a bark of wild laughter from Mordred.

“You’re on! Hope you enjoy the taste of defeat!” The blonde knight says tauntingly, closely followed by several loud cries of shock and pain. I don’t look behind me, however, as I slam my knee into the crotch of my present opponent. I winced as a shrill yelp of pain slipped past the ruffian’s pursed lips, his eyes crossing slightly as he fell down onto his knees.

“Sorry about that,” I mutter apologetically, before following up with a (somewhat) gentler knee strike to his chin, sending the disabled man sprawled out on his backside.

“Henry! You’ll pay for that!” Another pirate roared angrily, waving his cutlass menacingly over his head as he charged towards me. My right hand curls up into a fist, while the other grips the hilt of the _pugio_ Nero had gifted to me. The heavy blade slid free from its protective sheathe as the pirate’s sword swung downwards.

I felt a familiar jarring sensation shoot up my left arm as my dagger intercepted the blow. Not giving my foe a moment to recover, I swung my free hand upwards, catching his chin in an upper cut that sent the brigand flying. Not having a moment to relax, I thrusted the same arm backwards, catching a not-so-silent pirate in the gut with my elbow as he crept up behind me.

Spinning around, I ‘gently’ slam the pommel of my dagger into the side of his head. The blow was dampened somewhat thanks to his green bandana he had wrapped around his head, but it was still enough to knock him out.

I then had to lean backwards as a screaming pirate flew past him, crashing into a small pile of barrels as Lu Bu roared ferociously. Taking a moment to re-observe my surroundings, I saw that, to my satisfaction, that we were more than holding our own.

However, if we wanted to make actual progress, we had to go onto the offensive. My eyes shot over to the one who had called for the start of the brawl. He was very recognizable, seeing as how he was missing his left eye, either from disease or injury, and had an eye patch covering said eye.

I looked around, seeing Mash being the closest Servant, hugging close to Ritsuka protectively, even as he finished knocking out his own opponent with a solid right hook. I felt my lips quirk up slightly as I felt a wave of pride wash through me, but I quickly tempered it down.

“Mash! We gotta reach the leader! You ready?” I called out. Mash looked over at me with wide eyes before nodding.

“Senpai, stay close to us!” She instructed her Master. My next course of action already decided, I charged forward, ducking and weaving through the mob, and only lashing out in self-defense or if I could avoid anyone. From what I could tell, Mash and Ritsuka were doing something similar.

Soon, we managed to break through the crowd, to confront a wide-eyed pirate captain as we all charged him. Fumbling slightly, I saw him cock his flintlock, aiming it towards us. “Mash, block that shot!” I roared, even though she wasn’t one of my Servants.

“Understood!” The Shielder called back, slamming her shield down in front of us as I rolled over towards her. Just in time, too, as I heard a loud crack, followed up with a high-pitched _ping_ as the lead ball was deflected by the solid mass of metal that was Mash’s weapon.

The captain cursed loudly, and I heard him drop his now-useless gun. “Now, before he can get another weapon!” I shouted, putting a hand on Mash’s right shoulder and vaulting over her. Landing on my feet, I shot forward, but Mash shot by me in turn.

Positioning her cross-shaped shield directly in front of her, she slammed into the captain, hitting him dead center and pinning him against the wooden cabin wall he had been standing in front of. I quickly followed up, and pressed the blade of my dagger threateningly against his throat, though taking care to not cut anything by accident.

“Tell your crew to stand down,” Ritsuka said, joining up with us once again, and our captive swallowed nervously, as I pressed the blade a little harder to his throat. To his credit, the captain still somehow managed to glare with his one good eye at us for a few seconds before slumping slightly.

“Drop your weapons, boys. We’ve been beaten,” he said angrily. Our prisoner had barely finished his sentence before several of his crewmates began voicing their objections.

“We can still take them, Bombe!”

“I gave an order, William!”

Another few tense seconds passed by, neither side backing down. I was starting to consider pricking the skin with my knife, to show that I was willing to slit his throat, when finally I heard the sound of various objects clattering onto the deck. I stepped backwards, sheathing my knife in one fluid motion, though not letting go of the hilt.

“Mash, would you like to do the honors?” Ritsuka asked the pink-haired girl. Said Demi-Servant nodded and stepped forward, staring up into the eyes of the tall pirate.

“We have some questions to ask. Please answer them truthfully, unless you want to go for round two,” Mash offered. I almost flinched as Mordred walked up and slammed one fist into the other, and out of the corner of my eye I saw one of her trademark feral smirks showing.

“Please, go with option two. That wasn’t enough of a warmup for me.” I tapped Mordred on the shoulder, shaking my head slightly. The blonde knight huffed, rolling her eyes, but she took a step back.

“Christ, I said I give, didn’t I? Just ask your questions missy, and keep that blonde demon away from me!” The captain said, and Mordred snickered, taking the insult in stride. Mash and I both sighed, before the former looked back at the man.

“Who are you? Where are we? What’s going on?” She said, listing each question in a crisp and rapid succession. The pirate sighed loudly, a faint smile that looked more as a grimace showing.

“We haven’t a faintest clue, see. Before we knew it, we were afloat around here. Quickly found out that our compasses and maps are useless here. Then a few days later, you show up, while we still have no clue, we followed our instincts: attack the prey in front of you. It’s the pirate’s way, ya know?” He finished with a weak chuckle. Mash stared at him, wide-eyed.

“What?” She asked in disbelief. “So, you had no idea who we were, and yet you attacked us anyways?”

“That’s right, yo ho! Because we’re pirates!” The pirate in question said in an off-tune, sing-song voice. Mash stared at the grinning man, stunned, before looking at us in despair.

“What should we do, Senpai?” Mash said, pinching the bridge of her nose gently as she shook her head. “He’s starting to sing like he’s in a musical…”

“Is he an idiot?” I said, exhaling sharply.

“If he doesn’t shut up, I’m going to knock his teeth in,” Mordred growled.

“I’ll help,” Amadeus said, cringing at every off-key note.

“Umu, I like this! What he lacks in skill, he makes up for passion!” Nero said defensively, her hands on her hips.

“Course you would,” Mordred muttered. It seemed that my partner still held a bit of a distaste, to say the least, for the Emperor of Roses. At least it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the relationship between her and Artoria.

“So, in other words, we have no leads?” Ritsuka chimed in, before the Servants ended up bickering amongst one another or something.

“I may be an idiot, but I do have some leads,” the captain said, thankfully instead of singing, too! “Our boss and the rest of our crew are at a nearby island. Our own Pirate Island. We’re running low on food and water, you see, and were making our way back when you lot appeared. Maybe the boss’ll have some of the answers to your questions by now,” he offered.

“Pirate…Island? Meaning a lot of pirates?” Mash asked nervously.

“Well, yeah! Wouldn’t be much of a hangout for us pirates otherwise, would it?” I opened my mouth to ask my own question when I was almost bowled other by the energetic Rider that is known as Astolfo.

“A Pirate Island? That sounds like fun! Masters, can we please go visit it?” Pleaded the eccentric paladin. I could have sworn that I heard Jeanne sighing softly in the background.

“What do you think, Doc?” I said instead, speaking into my commlink. The acting-director hummed softly at first, before answering.

_“Well, seeing as how we have a dearth of leads at the moment, we might as well try our luck with this one.”_

“Understood,” Mash responded, before looking towards the captain with an intense gleam in her purple eyes. “Well, everyone, I hereby exercise my right as victor. Please, man the wheel, and head towards this ‘Pirate island’,” the Demi-Servant said. I expected the captain to protest, as well as his crew, but to my shock, the man nodded rapidly.

“Aye, aye, sir!”

“That would be, ‘Aye, Aye, ma’am!’” Mash corrected sternly. I felt my eyelid twitch slightly as Ritsuka and I stared at the unusually assertive Demi-Servant. I would never describe my friend as a pushover or anything like that, but seven times out of ten, the quiet girl was usually just that: quiet.

“Look at her. Look at her. She’s the captain now,” I said in disbelief. Unfortunately, my parody of a certain meme went unappreciated. Between Ritsuka and I, Marie failed at hiding the wide smile behind her hand. Was it just me, or did she seem to be looking at Mash in the same way that a teacher gaze at their protégé?

“Ah, they grow up so fast!”

“Huh?” Ritsuka asked, looking at his Rider with his usual display of confusion. The Flower of Versailles turned to him with a wink in her eyes.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been helping Mash out in being more assertive~” Well, that definitely sounded interesting. And perhaps a bit ominous, as well.

“Oh? Anything in particular, or just being a good friend?” I inquired, rubbing my chin slightly.

“A little of column A, a little of Column B,” she said impishly. “Let’s just say that there’s a certain goal she has in mind, and I’ve a vested interest in making sure one of my friends achieves it.” Wait a second….My eyes narrowed slightly as I began to suspect just what the female Rider was referring too, while Ritsuka smiled happily.

“Aw, that’s nice to hear! Thanks Marie!” He said, being rewarded with a beautiful smile, unaware that he was related to Mash’s little ‘goal’. I had to suppress the urge to release a long sigh.

….What an oblivious idiot. A good friend, but a dense one, too, it seems...

* * *

I watched as the distant speck that an eager Astolfo (and a much-harassed lookout) had pointed out from the crow’s nest grow larger and larger. Sure enough, it was a decent-sized island, alright. We would be disembarking soon. The captain, his name Bombe, had offered to personally take us to his boss, and we had agreed, though with plenty of reservations. After all, he _was_ a pirate, and only a few hours ago, an enemy.

During the voyage, Astolfo, Nero, and Marie seemed to have had the most fun, while Medea, Amadeus, and Mordred the least. I couldn’t speak for the first two, but in regard to my partner, I suspected that it had something to do with being surrounded by the ocean.

Finally, we reached a small cove. It was both sheltered and well-hidden, surrounded for the most part by tall rock walls, with a narrow gap leading into the forest. Bombe grinned wickedly before instructing his crew to wait here while he took us to visit this boss of his he constantly harped about.

I wasn’t sure why, but the one-eyed man seemed to have grown more confidant by the passing minute. The instant our feet reached dry land, the man we were ‘depending on’ raced ahead of us. I bit back a curse, getting ready to draw my sword, when Bombe came to a stop, spinning around to face us as he planted his hands on his hips.

“I’ll take you to our boss now,” he said, before cackling for a few seconds. I felt my eyebrow twitching violently, while Mordred was gritting her teeth. “Heh, heh, heh, listen and be amazed…Francis Drake, the greatest, most glorious pirate on the high seas!”

“The hell’s up with this bravado?” Mordred asked irritably. Behind us, I heard Lu Bu give out a low roar of apparent agreement. Unfortunately, it seemed that our guide wasn’t done speaking. And I thought that _Nero_ loved to talk!

“After we get through the forest, you’ll find the Great Pirate Francis Drake’s secret hideout!” Our ‘guide’ exclaimed. I raised an eyebrow.

“Not going to be much of a secret if we find out,” I muttered under my breath, but the one-eyed man didn’t pay attention, as he started cackling. It was intimidating…if you were scared of Saturday morning cartoon-style villains, that is.

“You guys are done for,” he said gleefully. “When Boss gets a hold of ya, you’ll be—”

 _“Why does this person keep talking like a grunt?”_ Roman asked, sighing in exasperation. I heard some shuffling, as well as spluttering as a different voice came over the line.

 _“Setting up one’s character is important in_ any _era,”_ Da Vinci replied, apparently having pushed Roman out of his chair or something. _“It’s even normal to recreate your body into a beautiful idol.”_ Almost in unison, including _Bombe_ of all people, sighed at Da Vinci, though it was (mostly) in good humor.

 _“Sorry, Da Vinci, but can you just go back to your workshop? Please?”_ Roman politely asked his co-worker, who released an audible sigh before apparently departing, though not without grumbling darkly under her breath. Bombe looked towards us with a cocked head, a befuddled look temporary replacing his earlier ‘villainy’.

“What’s with all the ruckus? Is it witchcraft? Magic or something?” He demanded. At that moment, Fou, who had opted to keep himself hidden on Mash’s person, popped out, chirping softly. Bombe’s one good eye focused on the critter. I found myself disliking the gleam that appeared in the green orb as the pirate licked his chops.

“Oh, my, what is this adorable little creature?” He asked. “It looks _delicious_.”

“Fou?!?” Mash’s animal companion cried out in alarm.

“Try to eat him, and I’ll crush you like a pimple,” I said sternly, glaring at the man as I rested both of my palms on the pommels of my weapons. Thankfully, the bonehead seemed to have realized that I wasn’t making an idle threat.

“Yeas, sorry!” He stammered nervously, before spinning around. “Well, time’s a wasting! Ha, ha, follow me!” He said, tromping into the forest. We followed close behind, and I listened in as Mash spoke up behind me as the Demi-Servant walked step-by-step next to her (not-quite-so-secret) crush.

“Master, do you recognize the significance of what Bambe has just revealed?”

“That he’s lost his marbles?” Mash paused, while I couldn’t help but snicker softly.

“Well, yes, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. Francis Drake. One of the great heroes that pioneered this world. We are in the midst of the Age of Exploration. If he’s the real Drake, he’s probably a living being,” Mash said, sounding once more like a teacher.

“Like Nero when we first met her?” Ritsuka inquired.

“Yes. He’s the first voyager in history to sail around the world and live to tell the tale.”

“There were other attempts before him, then, I assume?”

“Yes. The first recorded circumnavigation around the world was led by the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan, about thirty years ago from the date of this era. However, Magellan was killed in the Philippines before completing the expedition. About three years later, Spain launched the Loaísa Expedition. Again, the leader died, along with all but twenty-five of his comrades,” I quickly explained over my shoulder.

“Jacob Senpai is correct. As a result of his actions, England received great fortunes. They bested Spain, who had been dominating the world seas, especially after conquering the New World. Because of this, Spain was touted as the Sun that Never Sets. But even they came to fear him, calling him ‘ _El Draque_ ’, the ‘Hero Who Brought Down the Sun’. Without him, the prosperous British Empire would never be achieved.”

“My, what a fascinating, and perhaps dashing character!” Marie said, with Nero quick to agree.

“However,” Mash said a bit loudly, silencing the two Servants, “while Drake was officially sanctioned by Queen Elizabeth as a privateer…a pirate’s still a pirate. Judging from the behavior of the pirates thus far encountered, I suspect that the odds are high that Drake will turn out to be a good-for-nothing thug.”

“In other words, don’t let our guard down,” I summed up grimly. Also, in other words, the usual routine. Still, pirate or not, I wouldn’t deny that I felt the thrill of meeting yet another famous and influential figure. One of the few consistent upsides of my current occupation, one might observe.

“Yes, that’s correct. Most likely a gluttonous giant, a nefarious character able to grab a barrel in one hand and chug its contents. The possibility is quite disturbing, but there is no doubt that he is a key person of this era. We must find a way to enlist the aid of Francis Drake.”

* * *

The last time few times we had traveled through a forest, it had always been interrupted by a fight, whether it was Servants, Roman legionaries, the undead, or monstrosities. This time, however, it appeared that Lady Luck was smiling upon us, for we weren’t accosted for the entire hour and a half or so it took to traverse the woods.

By the time we had finally reached the end of the forest, my knuckles were white from gripping the hilt of my sword tightly and consistently. Was it because I felt we were walking into a trap? No. Was is because we were being stalked? Again, no.

Did it have anything to do with the incessant noise coming from Bombe? Unfortunately, yes.

“Bet you’re really happy about not slitting his throat now, huh?” Mordred groaned loudly as we pushed through the last few yards of forest. I could see a relatively large meadow. A small wooden palisade surrounded the edge, though I highly doubt it would keep out any serious attackers. Especially seeing as how there weren’t any guards near the entrance Bombe was leading us too.

“Yeah, happy like a truss,” I grumbled. Still, Rits had wanted to avoid lethal methods when we dealt with Bombe and his band, and I highly doubt my friend would just be easy-going if I attacked our guide, especially since he was both unarmed and not attacking us. Or at least, not attacking us _yet_.

When we entered, I noticed rows upon rows of hastily erected tents, each one made of white canvas, though quite a far number had been patched up. More and more pirates began to appear, either drawn by Bombe’s boasts or the urging of their comrades to check out the newcomers, no doubt.

“There sure is a lot of pirates here,” Ritsuka said, a slight tremble of anxiety in his voice. I shot my fellow Master a reassuring smirk.

“The only thing they got over us is numbers. Just keep cool, and we’ll be fine,” I said confidently, even if I didn’t fully feel as such. Still, it was better to have shaky confidence than none. I saw Mordred give me one of her smirks, and I myself felt reassured, knowing that she had my back.

Finally, we reached a slightly larger tent towards the center of the camp. Considering how Bambe came to a stop a few yards away from the entrance, I felt reasonably confidant in assuming that this was where Francis Drake had set up his spot.

“Boss! BOSS!!” Bombe hollered, perhaps a bit louder than was necessary. “We’ve got enem…er, guests, I mean!” The one-eyed pirate quickly corrected himself, sweating slightly as Mordred and the others glared at him. At first there was no response from inside the tent. Perhaps Drake was asleep? Then, finally, we heard the faint sound of movement within the canvas structure. “They wish to talk with you, Boss!”

“The hell?” Rang out a surprisingly feminine sounding voice. “Christ, right when I’m in a good mood, from this good rum—Wait. Guests? Are they pirates?”

“Umm, I don’t think so!” Our guide called back. “They seem a bit classier than us. A bit more violent, too!”

“A bit?” Mash asked indignantly. I saw Ritsuka sympathetically patting her shoulder, and the Bristling Demi-Servant visibly relaxed slightly.

“The hell does that mean?” By this point I heard the sound of fabric, perhaps a blanket, rustling, as Drake began moving about. “Well then, are they government? Or army, perhaps?” Bombe looked over his shoulder, his brow creased as he stared at us for a few seconds before answering.

“Uh, I don’t think they’re _any_ of those.” A loud sound that appeared to have been a mixture of a growl and a groan slipped past tent entrance.

“So, in other words, you don’t know, then. _Fine_ , I’m coming out to have a look.” Ritsuka, Mash, and I braced ourselves slightly, while Mordred crossed her arms with a bored expression on her face. A few seconds later, and the occupant of the tent stepped out into the sunlight, and we got our first look at Sir Francis Drake.

The first thing I saw was an extravagant-looking tricorn hat laced with gold, though if it was actual gold or the more common false gold used in the style, I couldn’t tell. It was nestled on a head with wild pink hair, though it looked relatively well-kept compared to Mordred’s…style. Then Drake straightened upright, and I got a full view of ‘the Dragon’.

It wasn’t a giant of a man. Nor was a barrel clutched in their hand. Nor where they covered with tattoos, though there was a scar across their face. Ice blue eyes swept over us with a shrewd sense in them. There wasn’t any obvious sign of slovenliness to them, and in fact wore what seemed to be a uniform of sorts. A sleeveless coat that revealed two very distinctive mounds of flesh not typically found on a male. I blinked in surprise as I realized what I was seeing.

“Well now,” the woman said, an intrigued look in her eyes, resting her hands on her hips. “You certainly brought me some strange ones, Bombe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Le Gasp!* Drake's not a guy? JK
> 
> So, what did you guys think? I had to do a bit of reworking from how the game portrays this section, but did I do a decent job? Also, yay, Ritsuka took down his first opponent in a fight, and non-lethally too! Also, tried a fight scene that was almost solely focused on non-Servants as the focus, so to speak, to spice things up. Totally not because I was avoiding making it feel like filler material considering that the crew Jacob and Rits brought along could have probably slaughtered the entire pirate mob...*laughs nervously*
> 
> I now I am super-psyched to write the next chapter or two, with Jacob and crew getting to experience the antics of Drake and her little band, but who else is? :)
> 
> Now, for the questions of the chapter: First up, who do you think is a better character overall, Ereshkigal or Ishtar?  
> Second question: what's been your favorite singularity that I've written so far? (i.e which did you enjoy in terms of my writing style and all, as opposed to personal favorites of the seven singularities?)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments, reviews, and short story idea suggestions (I swear I'll get to them eventually!). I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to read what y'all thought of this chapter! Have a lovely day, and see ya in the next chapter!


	53. Francis Drake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company meet the legendary Sir Francis Drake, and get their first taste of what it's like to be a pirate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update, another hour to spend reading! Not much to say really, other than I hope you enjoy and see you in the endnotes!

“Well now,” Francis Drake said, an intrigued look in her eyes, resting her hands on her hips. “You certainly brought me some strange ones, Bombe.”

A part of me wondered if I should be shocked by this revelation on the gender front. Then, I remembered Mordred and Nero, and a few other Servants that I’ve met thus far, and I realized that it’s more of an ‘eh, okay’ moment. First time, with Mordred, it was a complete shock. Second time with Nero, it was more of a surprise. Now? It honestly felt kinda normal.

I opened my mouth, intending to introduce myself, when Bombe hurried over to Drake’s side, acting like an utter sycophant as he railroaded over us.

“Oh, yeah, but they’ve got their good points. Not only did they save our lives,” A raised eyebrow, “but they’re excited to meet their idol captain!”

“Idol? I’m their idol?” Drake repeated, looking at us, and then Bombe with her own arched eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Bombe said, nodding his head most vigorously. Man, was I really starting to regret not slitting his throat, bloodthirsty though that sounds! “They’ve been saying how great you are, how Drake can blast away the Spanish Armada in an instant! That Drake is a giant over three meters tall, who downs rum by the barrel. They’re really excited!” Bombe said, while Mash had grown progressively paler as her own words were repeated, albeit in a warped manner.

I flinched mentally, expecting for the famous privateer to lash out angrily at that. To my shock, though, she seemed to blink in surprise, leaning back slightly.

“Whaaat? What’s up with that? I haven’t committed such sins yet!” She didn’t sound horrified, at least. I looked to the side where Mash and Ritsuka were standing, both of whom were slack-jawed.

“Um, Senpai,” Mash whispered softly. “I’m at a loss of words.”

“ _Met too,”_ Roman chimed in. _“Who knew that_ THE _Francis Drake—”_

“Yeah, who knew she was a beautiful lady!” Ritsuka said softly. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite enough. I didn’t have to look behind me to know that Nero was staring at her Master with an arched eyebrow, Jing Ke with a lazy shrug, and Mash groaned loudly. while on my end, I could feel Mordred’s frustration coming off in waves. I bent over and lightly swat Rits on the back of his head, muttering the words ‘hormonal idiot’, before gazing back at an unimpressed Drake.

“Forgive my colleague here. He sometimes speaks what’s on his mind, even when he shouldn’t,” I said, glaring subtly at a shame-faced Ritsuka. “My name is Jacob Aronson,” I said, looking back at her as I offered an open hand towards her.

“Hmm, you look like a fighter,” Drake mused. Which, of course, had Bombe nodding his head frantically. Before I could reply on my own terms, sadly, the one-eyed miscreant launched himself into telling another tall tale.

“Aye, boss! You should have seen him! Cut through fifty foes in a blink of an eye!” I instinctively blushed, shaking my head frantically.

“He exaggerates,” I quickly said as Drake hummed, clearly intrigued. She turned to her subordinate.

“Okay, that’s enough. Step aside, Bombe. I’ll do the talking now,” she said in an authoritative tone that had a final edge to it. Bombe nodded sheepishly and took a half-step to the side, as Drake looked back at us, one hand still resting on her hips while the other cupped her chin.

“Looks like you took good care of my boys, so thanks. So? Who on earth are you?”

“We’re from Chaldea,” I explained, before gesturing towards Mash to take over.

“My name is Mash Kyrielight, and this is my Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru. We’re part of the Chaldea Security Organization.” I waited for the typical look of confusion in regards to hearing the name of the association we were working for. This time, however, I was the one to suffer a bout of confusion, as Drake gave us a scrutinizing look, humming softly again.

“Chaldea, huh? What do the ‘stargazers’ want with us? Are they here to sell us some new maps of constellations?”

 _“What? This drunk actually knows her stuff! Even the origins of Chaldea!”_ Said an equally-stunned Doctor Roman. Drake frowned in response, removing her hand from her chin to rest on her hip again.

“Something feels really shallow about you, sir. Cowardly, gutless, pessimistic,” Drake paused with a scowl on her features. “A good man, but a chicken still. I hate people like you the most.” I felt a pang of sympathy for my temporary boss. While there was _some_ truth to her words, I couldn’t help but feel that maybe Drake went just a tad bit too far with her assessment. When Roman didn’t respond, Drake shook her head with a soft scoff.

“Well, spare me the details. They’re just a pain in the ass. So, what does Chaldea want with me, anyway?”

“We were sent to fix all the anomalies in this era,” Mash answered dutifully.

“To spare you the details, they are part of a larger issue threatening the existence of humanity,” I added. Drake eyed us _yet again_ , before nodding.

“Okay,” the pink-haired pirate said nonchalantly.

“Have you noticed anything particularly wrong with this era, this world? The oceans you’ve spent your days in, and the ocean we see before us, are not the same,” Mash said, seeming to have relaxed slightly at Drake’s easy-going acceptance. The pirate threw her head back, letting out a bark of laughter.

“Heh, all this talk about the world, the era, they were things I decided to completely ignore. But the ocean? Talk about that is something I can’t ignore. You’re right, something did feel strange.” Mash’s eyes lit up, a small smile on her lips.

“I thought so! We can explain why—“ Mash began to offer, before Drake interrupted her with a raised hand.

“But when I say ‘strange’, I don’t mean it as a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact! There’s no other world that’s as fun as this one! Isn’t that right, you scumbags?” Drake roared cheerfully. The band of pirates that had formed around us broke out into various cheers, their words overlapping with one another.

“Woo-hoo! You bet!”

“You’re the best, Boss!”

“Hear, hear, to never-ending rum!”

“Whaaaaat?” Mash whined softly, looking flustered and unsure of herself. Quite frankly, I couldn’t blame her either. Drake looked back at us with a crooked and lopsided smile. Her arms were extended slightly to her sides, indicating herself and her crew.

“You see? We pirates long for freedom, even if it entails evil deeds! If you insist on speaking with me, you must pass some tests firsts.” Ritsuka gulped nervously, while I sighed softly, pinching the bridge of my nose in irritation.

“Why do I have a feeling that this ‘test’ of yours isn’t of the pen and paper variety?” I groused, causing Drake to chortle loudly. She reached down and unholstered a decorated pair of flintlock pistols, twirling one of them dangerously.

“Ha! Try to defeat me, _THE_ Francis Drake. Then, we can talk! I’m as drunk as they come right now! Let’s see if you have what it takes to sober me up!”

 _“I guess too much freedom is sometimes a bad thing,”_ bemoaned Roman. His observation caused me to flash a grim, humorless smile as a quip popped into my head in response.

“Moderation is divine, Doc,” I muttered. I noticed that the decent-sized crowd of onlookers had taken the moment to spread out, allowing for a decent-sized amount of room for us to utilize during the fight.

 _“So I’ve heard,”_ Roman responded dryly, startling me for a moment. Huh, didn’t expect that kind of response from the rather-timid doctor. Good on him! “ _Like in France, Mash, please use the back of your blade!”_

“O-Of course! I shall respond to Captain Drake’s request. Master!” Mash called out, readying her shield. Her posture shifted into a more confidant one, the one I was used to seeing from the Demi-Servant whenever she was in the midst of a fight. For all her reservations about herself, my friend was a fairly good fighter.

“Okay, L—”

“Not so fast, kid!” Drake said, her eyes locked on to Mash. “I want this to be between me and her.”

“Very well,” Mash said resolutely. I exchanged wary glances with Rits, before looking over at Mash.

“You sure about this?” I asked softly. It wasn’t that I thought Mash was the worse choice, but rather, I was unsure of the idea of her fighting completely by herself, especially since we had been working almost constantly as a group.

Still, it looked like we had not other option here, and Mash knew that too. “Yes. Mash Kyrielight, engaging the enemy!”

* * *

Mash gritted her teeth instinctively, her sabatons carving two shallow furrows in the soil as she used the friction to halt her movement. This was unexpected. Francis Drake wasn’t supposed to be a Servant, or at least, not in this instance.

Why, then, was she capable of such powerful blows?!?

_‘This shouldn’t be possible. She’s supposed to be flesh and blood. For all of Doctor Roman’s faults, if he had detected even a hint of a Servant signature on Drake, he wouldn’t have kept it to himself when she challenged us to a fight!’_

Something strange was happening, but alas, she couldn’t do anything about it. She took rapid, deep breath, calming herself. She had to stay focused. If Mash lost this this fight, then any hope of getting Drake’s assistance would be shattered. And if that happened, then the mission was doomed.

The Demi-Servant had managed to get in a few hits, but nothing strong enough to hinder Drake, it seemed. Indeed, for the most part, in the furious exchanges of blows between the two, Mash felt like she might be getting the poorer part of the deal, so to speak. Even the blows she blocked seemed to sap at her strength, again making her wonder if Drake was actually a Servant making her abilities somehow.

Mash flinched instinctively at the two sharp _cracks_ of thunder as Drake fired both of her large-caliber flintlock pistols at her. Without skipping a beat, the Demi-Servant slammed her shield down, leaning against it as she felt two whistling noises as the lead balls ricocheted off of her shield, and a dull ache ran up her arms.

Mash started to shift her position slightly so as allow her to relocate her opponent. She couldn’t help but wonder just why Drake had used up her only two shots. Drake must have known that she would have—

Her violet eyes widened as she realized her mistake. That realization was only further reinforced via the medium of a curled fist greeting her face as it popped out to the side of the shield.

Mash recoiled sharply, blinking away stars as a metallic taste entered her mouth. A split lip, most likely. A non-critical injury that wouldn’t reduce combat effectiveness, in other words. That same blood that was seeping into her mouth was promptly ejected as the breath was driven out of her as Drake slammed her right boot into Mash’s stomach.

If it had been in the previous form, the damage might have been even more significant. However, shortly after completing the mission in Rome, Doctor Roman had pulled her aside to inform her that apparently, she had undergone something called an ‘Ascension’. An upgrade, in a way, he called it. While her Master and Jacob Senpai hadn’t commented yet on the minor additional armor (especially, thankfully, her no-longer exposed navel region).

Still, it was enough to send her flying off of her feet. Mash gritted her teeth, trying to not cry out in pain as she skipped across the ground, like a stone across a small pond, before finally coming to a halt. Her body ached, and she suspected that in a few hours Mash would be dealing with

“Hmph, is that all you got?” Drake asked, sounding rather disappointed.

“Mash!” Her Master (and crush) cried out at the same time. He sounded pained, no doubt concerned over her well-being. A dull ache flashed in the pit of her stomach, this time unrelated to any physical injuries.

Everyone was depending on her.

_‘Maybe they shouldn’t have…’_

No, her Master was counting on her. She couldn’t let him down. She _WOULDN’T_ let him down!

Mash slammed her shield into the ground once again, pushing herself onto her feet.

“Yes, that’s better!” Drake crowed encouragingly, but Mash ignored the pirate’s words. The mission came first. There was no time to indulge in distractions of any sort. “Looks like it’s time to finish this!”

‘ _Indeed,’_ Mash thought to herself, charging forward at the same time as Drake. The pink-haired pirate was holding her empty flintlocks in a reverse grip, perhaps using the tactic she had read about in using the heavy wooden grips as makeshift clubs.

Mash’s mind kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a move to utilize despite lacking true combat experience she might otherwise have had from the Heroic Spirit she was contracted with. Then it came to her.

“Hiyah!” Mash grunted in exertion, pushing herself forward into the air, spinning while doing so, seeking to build up momentum as she swung the heavy shield around her. Everything around her became something of a blur, but she focused only on the one person who mattered at the moment.

Drake yelped in pain as Mash completed her spin, slamming the boss of her shield into the unprotected chest of the pirate. The pink-haired woman went flying through the air, before landing heavily on her back.

Mash almost stumbled when her feet connected with the earth, but she quickly regained her bearings, angling her shield so to be at the ready without obstructing her vision this time. Drake didn’t move at first, but then planted her hands on the ground, trying to push herself back up.

Mash braced herself, panting softly as she waited to see if her opponent was about to launch yet another attack. Emitting a low groan, she saw the sprawled-out pirate slapped the ground three times in a sign of submission, before slowly pushing herself up onto her feet.

She did it! She had won!

“Great job, Mash!” Ritsuka shouted energetically, and Mash felt her cheeks heat up as she instinctively at being praised for, well, anything by her Senpai, even as she leaned against her shield. Taking a deep breath, she quietly thanked whoever it was that had lent her their powers once again.

* * *

“Great Job, Mash!” Cried out my fellow Master. I grunted in approval, as some of the other Servants also voiced their approval and support for the victorious Demi-Servant. I noticed her stumble slightly and gestured at Ritsuka to hurry over to her side, just in case.

Thankfully, I couldn’t see any serious injury, other than a split lip that a little application of magecraft from Medea could heal in a heartbeat. “You okay?” Ritsuka inquired quietly.

“S-So powerful,” Mash stated with a wince. “Doctor, this person is flesh and blood, right?”

“ _W-Well, she_ should _be. Thing is, I’m getting a magical energy reading from her.”_

“So, she’s either a mage, or a hero from birth?” Mash wondered aloud. A hero from birth? I couldn’t figure out if I had heard it before, and I took a deep breath, preparing to speak. Before I could inquire as to just what the pink-haired teen was saying, however, we were all silenced by a sincere, hearty bout of laughter from an equally bruised Drake. Her guns were holstered, and her stance relaxed again.

“Ahhhhh! That hits the spot. Rum’s got nothing on this, let me tell you!” She stated in satisfaction.

“Hey, boss, you all right?” Bombe asked anxiously. Drake’s first reaction was to release another bout of hearty laughter, waving off the words of concern. Apparently, she was taking the phrase ‘punch-drunk’ quite literally.

“Hahahaha! What are you talking about? Of course I’m all right!” Then, she seemed to have sobered up slightly, staring neutrally at Ritsuka and I. “That aside, though…it seems that I lost. You can boil me, fry me, sleep with me…anything you two want!” She proclaimed brazenly.

“I’m good!” I quickly declined, hearing a soft grunt of approval from a certain rather-possessive blonde knight.

“I’ll pass,” Ritsuka added, eliciting a sigh from Mash.

“Master, I don’t think you need to reply every time…” She said, grimacing slightly while shooting a look of jealousness towards the uninhibited pirate. Drake rubbed her chin thoughtful, returning the look evenly.

“Oh? I see, I see,” she muttered softly, before shrugging with another grin. “In that case, I guess it can’t be helped. Anyway, a loss is a loss. I’ll hear you guys out now. There’s one thing I want to ask though.”

“Go ahead,” I said with a shrug, before suddenly stiffening slightly. “Unless it’s about you wanting to give us another ‘test’, in which case, the answer is no.”

“I like your spunk, but no, it’s nothing like that. From the looks of it, you lot want a ride, don’t you? You’re clearly looking for someone or something, but are unfamiliar with these seas. That’s why you need to rely on me, pirate or not,” Drake commented with an uncanny accuracy. I saw no reason to deny such a transparent fact.

“You being a pirate is irrelevant, especially when it comes to saving humanity,” I stated bluntly.

“We need you, Francis Drake.”

“I see. Hah, so that’s it,” she muttered, humming softly with closed eyes. When she opened them, she had a serious expression for once. All hints of lightheartedness that had filled all of Drake’s previous words and actions were gone. “So, what exactly do you want from us? As I said, we lost, so short of our lives, we’ll give you anything you want.”

“First, we must understand the situation. Where are we, exactly?” Mash said, taking over once more. A part of me wondered if she would make for a good diplomat. Something to suggest to the Demi-Servant once we had restored the last of the foundations of humanity. “England, or closer to Spain, perhaps? Or are we in the Caribbean?”

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Drake said blithely. Mash blinked in shock.

“So, all that revelry, and you don’t even know?!?” Mash shouted uncomprehendingly.

“Right, because there’s no shortage of food or booze.”

“And hopefully fresh water as well,” I muttered dryly to Ritsuka. Pirates or not, alcohol wasn’t exactly a life-sustaining liquid, even for the most ardent of alcoholics.

“Anyways, there’s another matter I wish to address first. Now that we’ve surrendered to you, that means we’re officially part of your crew! How about we start off with a toast!” Drake said with her usual cheer. Was there something about Riders always being cheerful and energetic? It was certainly looking like it, as the English seafarer wrapped one of her arms around Mash, yanking her over and catching the Demi-Servant off-balanced.

“H-Hey, wait a sec,” Mash said, trying to wriggle her way out of what appeared to be an iron-tight hold. Her words and actions only made Drake laugh louder.

“C’moooon, it’s fine, it’s all good.”

“It’s _NOT_ good!” Mash roared in frustration, her rather strict and uptight aspect of her personality rearing its head once more. “Hey, what are you…No, wait!” She cried out, staring at Ritsuka with panic-filled eyes. “Master, save me!”

“You know what this calls for, lads! Let’s show them some of our good old hospitality!” Drake said, eliciting yet another volley of hoots and hollers from the pirates hanging around. Astolfo tugged on my shoulder, the eccentric Rider grinning from ear-to-ear with excitement.

“Oh, boy! A party? This is going to be great!” I think a piece of me just died inside at those words. In the short time that I have been Astolfo’s Master, I had learnt that the feminine-looking Rider had _no_ sense of moderation for the most part.

“It’s always fun to try new things,” Marie asserted supportively, while Nero nodded solemnly.

“Umu! This is something I must see!”

“Well, this is going to be a thing,” Mordred muttered pointedly at me. I hide my wince with a nod.

“Let’s just hope that nothing bad happens…” Even as I said those words, though, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just uttered a naïve and empty statement.

* * *

It took an hour or two, but finally the little bash Drake was insisting on throwing was ready. Tables of various sorts were thrown up, ranging from a large number of crates and barrels, to a few small tables, to even a few overturned rowboats! Somehow, Drake’s crew managed to establish enough seating area for everyone, even Lu Bu. Drake sat at the table Ritsuka, Mash, our Servants, and I were seated, one foot propped up on the barrel she was using as a seat.

The sky was indicating that it was approaching the evening, and while I had no interest in indulging in trying out the rum being passed around, the smell of food was tantalizing.

“Gah, about damn time we can get to eat!” Mordred muttered irritably, and I patted her shoulder gently. I absolutely sympathized with my partner right now, especially since we didn’t get a chance to really have lunch. It took virtually all my willpower to not salivate as a roasted chicken was placed in front of me, and two before Mordred. I clutched my mug of water cautiously, having kept an eye out to ensure that Drake or Bombe didn’t try to spike it with some rum. Mordred, Jeanne, and the vast majority of our Servants had also abstained from drinking, including (thank god!) Lu Bu.

Ritsuka, however, hadn’t displayed such display, especially after being egged on by Nero, Marie, Astolfo, and Jing Ke. The Chinese Assassin seemed particularly lively now that she could indulge in one of her favorite hobbies while on a mission.

We dug into our food, and our ‘host’ (proper status unknown for the moment) and her companions did the same. After a half-hour or so, I let out a satisfied sigh as I pushed the now-empty plate away from me. It was at that moment that a red-faced Drake stood up and loudly cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone.

“Alright, men! To our new comrades!” Drake paused, a befuddled look on the once-again tipsy pirate. To my consternation, the pirate captain had been spending most of the time between calling for this party and now drinking. I didn’t know if I should be impressed at how she was only mildly buzzed after the sheer volume of booze I witnessed Drake consuming, or terrified at what it must take to get her utterly plastered. “Huh? That’s backwards. To their new comrades, us—bah! Cheers!” Drake finally decided, raising her mug, a golden chalice, high in the air.

“ ** _CHEERS!”_** Her followers bellowed in unison, gesturing towards us before downing their own servings of booze. Ritsuka downed his third serving of rum, and already his cheeks had adopted a ruddy hue to them.

“oh, but we really don’t have time for this,” Mash politely protested. Ritsuka chuckled a bit goofily and leaned against his kouhai, not noticing the bright blush in response to his action.

“It can’t be helped,” Ritsuka said. Mash glowered reproachfully at her Master.

“Please don’t give in so easily! We have to set sail and check these waters out immediately…”

I opened my mouth, wanting to try to explain to the impatient and mission-focused girl about the beauty of taking some time to live in the present, when Drake chuckled lightly.

“What’s with that gloomy look?” Drake said in a tone that bordered on being reproachful. “You’ll never find treasure with an attitude like that!”

“That’s not what I mean,” Mash said instantly, either ignoring or (more likely) missing the meaning behind the pirate’s words. “If you’re going to help, please consider our situation—”

“The whole issue with these waters being abnormal, right? I mean, I’ve seen superhumans walking around, who won’t even budge from cannon fire.”

“Servants,” I muttered, my hand instinctively gripping the pommel of my _pugio_ , while Drake continued on with her tangent.

“Being a pirate myself, see, I’ve been through my share of chaos. I can usually tell when it’s something bad and unavoidable.” Drake paused, taking another sip from her decorative chalice. I swear to god, there was something _familiar_ about it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t put my finger on it. “These waters _are_ abnormal. One moment we’re near a jungle, the next we’re in a temperate Mediterranean climate. The currents and winds are a mess, too. I mean, even sailing straight out into the sea is tricky. Finally, there’s no continents in this ocean.”

“So, you already knew that much,” Mash observed with a grimace. Drake grunted in acknowledgment, tilting her cup slightly towards the Demi-Servant.

“Hence why we were already planning on a new journey tomorrow. Doesn’t make sense for pirates to settle down on land. Gotta find a town to call our home base. I had Bombe take part of the crew and our ship for a little scouting expedition. Tonight was supposed to be a pre-party when they returned, but then you lot showed up.”

“I see,” Mash said, a conflicted grimace showing.

“Fate doesn’t have much in the regard for manners, it seems,” I said in an apologetic tone.

“Don’t sweat it. You guys are a good omen!” I couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at that. Not that I want to be considered a bringer of ill, but being a good omen? Was there something stronger mixed in with her rum?

“A good omen?” Marie inquired sweetly.

“From what I can tell, you know how to handle a cannon or two. Right?”

“Can’t say I have, but I’m willing to try!” A red-cheeked Astolfo said eagerly, bouncing up and down in his seat. Note to self: Add Astolfo to the list of people in Chaldea who shouldn’t be given access to any sort of alcohol.

“I’ve never tried, but probably,” Mash said with a typical essence of hesitancy. It seems that Marie’s work, whatever it was exactly, was still one in progress. “Um, so, if you already knew that much when we showed up, why did you attack us?” Drake cackled like a madwoman, throwing her head back, some of her rum sloshing down the rim of her cup.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Because it seemed like fun!”

“Such a trivial reason,” Mash sighed despondently. On her right side, the one not occupied by Ritsuka, Jeanne gave her a gentle pat on the back with a sympathetic smile on her lips. Truly, she was fast becoming Chaldea’s ‘Big Sister’.

However, Drake’s interest in the Shielder waned for the moment, and she gazed warmly at Ritsuka and I. “So, Jacob and Ritsuka. You guys the captain or something?”

“Something similar, I would say,” Mash replied before either of us could. Drake laughed again. If Nero was the ultimate utilizer of the phrase ‘umu’, then Drake specialized in drunken laughter.

“In that case, drink up! Let’s be friends, from one captain to another,” Drake said, extending her chalice towards us, and I got my first close-up view of it. My breath got caught in the back of my throat as I felt my eyes widen. It…it was…

“Fou?!? Fofou? FOOOOOOOOOU!” Fou screeched from Mash’s shoulder, while Mash gasped in surprise before both Drake and Ritsuka downed their servings of rum.

“Now, someone knows how to old their liquor!” Drake roared in approval as Rits copied her mannerism and slammed his empty tankard down on the table.

“U-Ummm….Senpai?” Mash asked, as I tried to speak, but only managing to open and close my mouth.

“What’s it, Mash?”

“The H-Holy Grail…”

“I know,” Ritsuka said, his speech pattern sounding different.

“Senpai, the Holy Grail!” Mash cried out, now in frustration.

“We’ll get it,” Ritsuka said cluelessly.

“No, that’s not what I mean. The Holy Grail—”

“For everyone who fought with us!”

“Um, okay,” Mash said, flustered now. “That’s not what I mean, Senpai!”

“Let’s do our best, Mash!” Ritsuka roared, perhaps trying to sound like Drake or something, and a new thought popped into my head. I finally managed to wrench my gaze away from the item Drake was holding and looked at my fellow Master.

“Rits?” I asked warily, taking note of his current state. He was swaying slightly, his eyes a bit foggy looking. Oh, no…

“Master, how many fingers am I holding up?” Mash said sternly, holding up four fingers. I watched as Ritz blinked before narrowing his eyes, apparently having difficulty with focusing on Mash’s gloved hand.

“I see two Mashes, so…” Ritsuka slurred, lurching to the side slightly. He might have fallen off of his barrel seat, too, if it weren’t for me grabbing the back of his collar and hauling him upright.

“No more drinking for you,” I growled. While Mash facepalmed.

“Get ahold of yourself! Senpai! Right in front of us! The Holy Grail! It’s here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And cliffhanger! What did you guys and gals think? Especially curious to hear what your thoughts on the fight scene being written from the perspective of Mash, and her though process. Trying to show her as what I call pre-Drake Mash, where she was more focused on achieving the mission goals when deployed and all. At least, that's the impression I got of her from my first playthrough. This is one of my favorite singularities in terms of Mash growing into more of a true person, if you know what I mean?
> 
> Drunk Astolfo?!?
> 
> Also, I absolutely love how tispy/drunk Ritsuka/Gudako was written in the game, so I hope you all enjoyed that. Also, some exciting news! The first of a series of one-shot supplements is finally going to be posted next week, specificly Monday (hopefully; next Sunday at the latest), called Lament of a King. It's focused on Artoria after the little 'chat' between her and Jacob in Chapter 49, so keep an eye out for it! ;P
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: Which Servant(s) do you think are the ones you should never be around if they're drunk?  
> Next question: What do you think would be a better way to write Artemis and Orion as for an alternative to the way they are portrayed?  
> For FGO players: what are your thoughts on this week's Learning With Manga commemorative quest?
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave any kind of feedback (subscribe, leave a kudo or bookmark, comment, ectera). I hope y'all enjoyed it, and I can't wait to see what your reactions to this chapter is going to be! Have a wonderful weekend, and see you in the next chapter!


	54. A Pirate's Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mash deal with the fact that Drake somehow acquired the Holy Grail, while Ritsuka seeks advice from Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update, another chapter! Not much to say, other than I hope you enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

I blinked in disbelief at the Holy Grail being held before us.

“No fucking way…” I exclaimed softly. “Someone, punch me. I must be dreaming.” I had barely realized the folly of my words right there when I felt a stinging sensation in my left arm. “Figure of speech, Mordred!” I yelped. Thankfully, the Knight of Rebellion had made sure to dismiss her gauntlets and so the potential damage from the impact was negligent.

“Hey, you asked for that,” Mordred said with a toothy smirk. I huffed in mild annoyance, rubbing a hand up and down my arm to dull the pain, rolling my eyes slightly at her (sort of) affectionate antics. Still, unnecessary though it might have been, I wouldn’t deny that it wasn’t useful.

It certainly knocked me out of my state of shock.

I stared at the omnipotent, wish-granting device being so casually used as a common drinking tool. It just felt so surreal. However, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that things weren’t somehow magically simpler now that we’ve noticed this revelation.

Drake finally noticed our silence and expressions and cocked her head in bewilderment. “Why’re you all staring at me all of a sudden? You see someone you recognize?” She added impishly. Mash shook her head violently, her bangs flopping back and forth slightly.

“That’s not it at all! That thing! What you’re holding in your hands!” Mash said, almost shrieking in disbelief. Drake cackled.

“Ah-ha! A fine pair of eyes you got there,” she said, gesturing theatrically at the Holy Grail with her free hand. “Gold tankards are usually so tasteless, but not this one. It’s not just the never-ending booze from it, either. Place it on a table, and behold!” Drake said, doing exactly that. The Grail had barely even made contact with the wooden planks before suddenly a plate of steaks appeared out of nowhere. I saw Mordred salivating slightly beside me, but kept silent.

“It produces endless meat and fish!” Drake proclaimed. “I just happened to pick it up, but I doubt you’ll find anything like this anywhere.” I chuckled weakly at the statement. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right, either. However, the bigger questions we all wanted, no, _needed_ , answered, was just how the blue blazes had Drake acquired a working Grail!

“What are you talking about, boss?” Bombe said, swaggering over with a goofy-ass grin on his face. “This wasn’t coincidence. It was an adventure of _several_ lifetimes!” The drunk pirate tore his eyes away from Drake to look at us instead, and I suppressed the sigh as I suspected that we were about to be regaled in some over-the-top story.

“Seven endless nights!” Damn it. “Giant destructive whirlpools in one ocean after another! And from within the maelstrom, the legendary lost city of Atlantis! ‘The time is upon us. By the twelve gods of Olympus, I shall create another flood and destroy all civilization’,” Bombe said, trying to imitate some sort of deep, growling voice. My attention, however, was focused on his words now. Gods of Olympus? Atlantis? “That’s what the big thing said right before Boss kicked its ass and seized the treasure! And with that, as crazy as it sounds, she became a hero! Drake saved the world!”

Said savior blinked in surprise, a befuddled look in her eyes. “Huh? Was it really that epic? It got on my nerves, so I just gave it a piece of my mind. That, and some lead. That big lug called itself Poseidon. Being a sailor, I can’t really have that be. That’s why I put it in check and took its treasure, see? I even sank the entire city into the whirlpool. It was great!” Drake roared with laughter, as Bombe and the others joined her.

“Way to go, boss! Both fortune and misfortune smiled upon you!” I heard one pirate shout as Drake took another long swig from the Grail. I had to bite my lip at that. It just felt wrong to see the Grail, a device more devastating than all of the nuclear devices built throughout history being used at once, in such a casual manner. I could see that most of the others (excluding Ritsuka, Jing Ke, Nero, and Astolfo, that was) had similar reactions to mine.

“You’re going to be single till the day you die! Or maybe you’re actually a dude or something, eh boss?” Bombe slurred, leaning against Drake’s shoulder. I could smell the alcohol in his breath. Or was it Drake’s?

There were a lot of drunken folk about, truth be told.

“Now this is fun! We’ve got a new crew, and the booze is tasty! But,” Drake paused, an impish look in her eyes as she smirked at a suddenly-paling Bombe, “We’re takin’ Bombe in a barrel later, and sinkin’ him!” She spun around on her seat and raised the Grail high up into the air. “Now we sing, you idiots! Golden Hind, sing the crew’s theme song!” Then, to my horror, Drake and her crew began singing again.

…..were we dealing with pirates or street performers?

“Fou….FOOOOOOOU!” Fou wailed, as a loud thump shook the table. Looking to the side, I saw Mash’s forehead pressing against the table as she groaned in frustration.

“I don’t believe it, but they’re not lying! Jacob Senpai, the Foundation of Humanity was one the verge of destruction in this era before we arrived! And, Captain Drake, without even _knowing_ , resolved it on a whim.” Another, softer _thunk_ , as Ritsuka slumped forward, passing out in inebriation, while Mash sat back up, her forehead slightly red as she turned to me. “And the result—” She didn’t finish as Drake’s attention returned to us. She slammed the Grail onto the table as she released a long, loud belch.

“Haha! With this treasure, I can even deal damage to those invincible bastards! But it goes in and out of my body. Makes my chest so tight, I can’t stand it,” Drake growled, before she suddenly started adjusting the low-cut front of her outfit, giving me an unexpected view of her ‘assets’ as she adjusted them. I quickly spun around, wide-eyed and red-faced, as I heard Mordred growl dangerously next to me.

“Drake’s the owner of this era’s Holy Grail. By saving this era, the Grail chose her,” Mash finally finished, after I heard Drake let out a satisfied grunt. I risked a peek, but to my relief it looked like Drake had finished doing whatever the hell she had been doing.

“The nerve of her,” Mordred sneered softly. Was it just me, or did there seem to be some sort of a jealous look in her eyes as she glared at a still-unrepentant Drake. I rested a hand on her shoulder, and Mordred relaxed slightly.

“So, what you’re saying is that she is the rightful owner of the Grail?” I asked. Leaning to the side, Jeanne nodded, clearing her throat.

“Mash is correct, Master. I think Doctor Roman might be having a fit, though,” she warned us, and Mash’s eyes widened as she activated her commlink.

“Doctor, Doctor!” Mash shouted frantically. After no initial response for the first few seconds, Roman’s voice finally came over the line. He sounded distracted. Pre-occupied.

 _“Yes, yes, yes, what is it? Can you get back to me later?”_ Roman asked almost robotically, and I could almost imagine the ginger-haired man with a furrowed brow as he examined something. For all the hell we give him over his Magi Mari obsession, but I highly doubt that he was focusing on that. Sure enough, his next sentence confirmed my belief. “ _The search program is acting up a bit. For some reason, it says the Holy Grail is right in front of you.”_

I chuckled weakly at that “Well, Doc, here’s the funny thing about that. You see—” I started to say before Mash cut me off.

“That’s right! The Holy Grail is right in front of us!” The Demi-Servant hollered. For a few minutes, Roman remained silent. I was starting to get a tad bit concerned for him when he finally responded.

“ _WHAT?!?”_

“And Rits is passed out,” I added, noticing that the doctor mustn’t have been paying attention to the recent turn of events, based off his reaction alone. Before the conversation could continue, however, a loud crashing sound overrode the noise of the party.

“Ow!” One pirate with a scarred cheek snarled, looking belligerently at a nearby companion. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing.”

“Huh? Shut up and mind your own business!” He roared, throwing a drunken punch. Soon more and more of Drake’s comrades were dragged into what had started as a scuffle but was now a full-blown brawl.

“Oh, hell, and now they’re fighting… _again_ ,” Drake sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slightly in mock dismay. “Looks like we have to stop them! Blondie, Jacob, you guys up for it?”

“Always,” Mordred said with a feral smirk, resummoning her gauntlets in a flash of crimson lightning. I sighed and unbuttoned my pristine white overshirt. Neatly folding it into a small square, I put it down on my seat, and turn to a confused Mash.

“Mash, can you keep an eye on Rits and the others while Mordred and I help out Drake?”

“Understood,” Mash said, eyeing the Master in question forlornly. “This is insane…” She added with a heavy sigh. Chuckling slightly, I nodded my thanks, before turning around to a grinning Drake. I rolled my shoulders slightly before cracking my knuckles.

“Okay, let’s apply some disciplinary measures, hm?”

* * *

I finished buttoning the last button on my overshirt, and then sat down. It had taken a bit longer than expected, but eventually the combined efforts of Drake, Mordred, and I had brought a halt to the brawling. She had then complimented me and Mordred on our fighting skills. Mordred, of course, acted a bit like the peacock she could be, while I had deflected the praise in a way. Then the pink-haired pirate had quickly demonstrated yet another aspect of her leadership skills, by quickly punishing the ones responsible with guard duty, effective immediately. When I had asked her why that punishment, Drake had winked and said that either the two will get along or die trying.

Wisely, I had therefore dropped that line of questioning. When we had gotten back, I noticed that Medea, Jeanne, and Ritsuka were absent. When I had inquired as to the whereabouts of the trio, Mash had explained that she had asked Jeanne and Medea if they could figure out someway to fix Ritsuka’s state of inebriation.

Hopefully, some sort of solution would be found, and I was highly confidant that the two female Servants would come through on this. In the meanwhile, there was still an important matter that required our immediate attention.

“So….what? You guys came all this way, just for this magical tankard?” Drake asked with an arched eyebrow, gesturing at the Grail she still held for good measure. She paused and chuckled. “Sorry, I mean the ‘Holy Grail’. You lot can go back to your country if you have thus?”

“Yes,” Mash said softly, while I shrugged. While it wasn’t quite that simple (why would anything involving Chaldea get to be simple?), she had accurately summed up the relative gist of our mission. Drake hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, I can’t deny that I lost to you, and I even said I’d give you anything but my life,” Drake mused aloud. I straightened up in my seat. No way, my ears must be playing tricks on me or something. “Here, take it. You came from a distant era, right? Thanks for making the trip!” Drake said cheerfully, eyes closed and so therefore missing the sight of me almost falling out of my chair as she slid the Grail across the table towards me.

“Careful, idiot,” Mordred chided me quietly as she placed a palm against my back, steadying myself before gingerly picking up the freely-given Grail.

“Th-Thank you very much,” Mash stammered excitedly, as I examined the Grail. I could feel the power the vessel contained. It was addictive in a sense, and yet, and yet, it felt hostile to my presence. “Since we’ve retrieved the Holy Grail, we’ve resolved the Singularity of this era—"

“I don’t think we have,” I interrupted my friend apologetically. Mash looked around, then sighed, her shoulder sagging slightly.

“…You’re right,” Mash reluctantly admitted. She activated her commlink, her more robotic, matter-of-fact tone returning. “Doctor, the Holy Grail has been secured. Have there been any changes?”

“ _Not that I can tell. The ‘bolt’ of this era is still left unsecure. The Holy Grail is indeed functioning to a certain extent. However, it’s not as strong a force as the last two you guys retrieved were. I suspect that this might be the_ real _Holy Grail. The one that was in this era to begin with.”_

“Meaning?” Mordred said bluntly, tapping her right heel impatiently.

“ _The Grails that Lev Lainur supposedly placed disrupt the seven Foundations of Humanity. However, there was another Holy Grail in these seas. Captain Drake is the one chosen by that Grail. The reason behind the turbulent seas is that the opposing forces, the real Grail versus Lev’s, are in contention.”_

“A ‘savior’ Grail fighting against a ‘corrupt’ Grail, then?” I inquired.

“ _Bingo. As long as Captain Drake is around, this era won’t fall. However, it won’t return to normal, either. In order for that to happen, I fear we must retrieve the Grail Lev had left behind.”_

“So, same old, same old?” Mordred asked brusquely with a grunt. Mash shot my partner a pointed look at her dismissive tone.

“While I don’t agree with Mordred’s words, I do share something along the lines of her sentiment, Doctor,” the Shielder said in a more diplomatic tone. “So, it’s not as urgent as the previous eras, but the final objective is the same.” Then I noticed how Drake was frowning at us.

“There’s that damn odd voice again,” she muttered. “Say, who are you talking to, Mash? You got a pet gnome or something in addition to that critter on your shoulder?”

“No, it’s not that cute,” Mash said with a heavy sigh, scratching the chin of Fou in the meanwhile. “The Doctor is, how shall I say…think of it as a mysterious fairy, talking to us from a town really far away.”

“ _Really_ far away,” I added, while Mordred snorted in amusement. Drake’s expression, however, morphed into one of disgust, scowling fiercely.

“Sure. So, he’s making you guys fight, while he gets to cozy up in his home?” Drake spat to the side in disgust. “In the end, what’s this all about? You get what you came for?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I said, handing back to her the Grail she had earned.

“It seems there is another Holy Grail, Captain Drake. One that shouldn’t exist in this era. Unless we retrieve to, the ocean will be like this, forever,” Mash added grimly. Drake’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that sounds real dangerous. Are you serious?” She demanded.

“Absolutely. We have been working on this for a few months now. People have died,” I said, gritting my teeth as memories of Chaldea burning resurfaced. Director Animusphere, and everyone else that day…

I shook my head, clearing my mind of such morbid thoughts. “Anyways, since that’s the case, I should give this back to you,” I said with a rueful smile. A visibly shocked Drake stared at the golden chalice like it was an unknown lifeform, then at me, before accepting the return of the Grail.

“O-Okay. I appreciate your courtesy….Boy, I’ve never given up a treasure so easily, or had it returned so easily, either,” She muttered distractedly. Mash and I sighed heavily once again.

“Doctor, can I get some advice, please?” Mash asked wearily.

 _“H-Hey, just hang on a second, I’m thinking,”_ Roman said, sounding completely frazzled. I could paper rustling and the keys of a keyboard being hit frantically. _“This is way beyond what I imagined…”_ The sound of a pair of boots drawing closer, a startled squawk from Roman, and another familiar voice came over the line.

 _“Then, may I ask a few questions?”_ Da Vinci asked. With an arched eyebrow, Drake nodded slowly, before realizing that a verbal response might be better, giving off a simple grunt.

_“Wonderful! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Francis Drake. I know that this may seem very sudden, random even, but do you have a wish?”_

“Wish?”

_“Yes. For example, you’re a pirate. You wish to gather all of the treasures in the world, do you not?”_

“Yeah, I suppose I do,” Drake said with a shrug, before narrowing her eyes suddenly. Wait, so, do I just wish on this Grail here to have it come true?”

 _“Most likely. Are you going to?”_ Drake scoffed dismissively, a scornful look in her blue eyes.

“Of course not,” the pirate said, sounding rather disgusted at the idea. “Like you said, I’m a pirate, right? A pirate that gets treasure by praying…that’s a bad joke if ever I heard one. Treasure should be won through power, wisdom, and courage.” Da Vinci took Drake’s answer in stride, humming quietly.

_“In that case, that would mean your immediate wish would simply be to secure enough food, water, and safety. In other words, you already had that wish granted.”_

“Well, that explains why you haven’t had any kind of supply issues,” I commented. Drake didn’t reply to either of us, staring off into the distance thoughtfully.

“I suppose that’s true,” she finally said.

“ _The Holy Grail you hold has the power to create this world. However, this ocean is not what you desire. Therefore, that means something else is causing this world to exist. Someone is disrupting your ocean, and your era, Captain Drake. That means then, that only one thing can be done. You need to reclaim you own world!”_ Da Vinci explained with her typical theatrical style. “ _The people next to you, their job is to resolve issues of this nature. They’re professionals”_ (Kinda, I wanted to say, but kept my silence) _“who have defeated what you call ‘invincible guys’ numerous times already.”_

“Huh, is that so? I think I understand now. Thanks,” Drake added a bit brusquely. “What does that make you, though?”

 _“Leonardo Da Vinci. I died about twenty years before you were born. I’m a genius,”_ Da Vinci said with her usual display of modesty. So modest, I found it hard to resist the sudden urge to roll my eyes at those words.

“Oh. Never heard of you,” Drake said with a lackadaisical shrug.

 _“W-What…did you say?”_ Da Vinci stammered, sounding absolutely _horrified_. I snockered softly, wishing that I could ask Roman to see if he could snatch a picture of Chaldea’s head engineer’s expression right now.

“So, this world _is_ broken after all,” Drake continued, ignoring the effect her words apparently had on the absent Caster. “Which means that there’s no treasure to begin with,” Drake finished, sighing disappointedly. Mash nodded her head sympathetically at the now-despondent pirate.

“You could be right. I don’t think there is—” Mash started to say before Roman cut her off.

“ _No!”_ He shouted defiantly, startling all of us with the intensity behind that single word he had uttered. _“There is! I believe that there is! In this world and era, pirates are a common thing. For better or worse, the Age of Exploration was an unavoidable event that expanded the world. The planet’s pioneers entrusted their dreams to the unknown seas and the other side of the horizon. Why, with all these thoughts and desires gathered in one area, I wouldn’t be surprised if a treasure actually did exist here,”_ Roman finished, sounding extremely enthusiastic. His words had caused a hungry look to appear on Drake’s face, while an uneasy sensation settled in the pit of my stomach.

“Hey, Doc, doesn’t this feel familiar to you in any way?” I asked cautiously, as I had flashbacks of the last time we went searching for ‘treasure’. While maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bullshit as it had been with Stheno, I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to repeat even a fraction of that experience.

Regrettably, Francis Drake was unaware of these facts, and already seemed hooked onto the suggestion Roman’s word held. “So, it does exist? Enough gold, silver, and spices to sink my ship?” Drake demanded avariciously.

“ _Yes. I, Doctor Romani Archaman, will guarantee that. There_ is _treasure…for sure!”_

“I can’t take it anymore. I’m fired up. I’m fired up as hell!” Drake roared, the doctor’s energy now rubbing off onto her. She slammed her palms against the table, making a large enough racket that the entire encampment fell silent. “Alright, scumbags, let’s drink up a storm first! Our voyage tomorrow is going to be one unlike any other! No guarantee we’ll return alive, so drink your hearts out! Treasures! Riches! Spices! Tasty booze and uncharted adventures await us!”

 ** _“CHEERS!”_** Her motely crew roared, and even I felt the faintest stirrings of adventuring enter my soul. Part-time drunkard or not, it seems that Drake had quite a way with words, indeed.

“Wait, we’re drinking again?” Mash asked wide-eyed. Then, to our mutual horror, the sounds of singing could be heard once more. Only this time, there were a few new voices. Three new voices, to be exact, as Jing Ke, Astolfo, and a bouncing Nero joined in.

“Ah, please! No more singing!” Amadeus wailed, clawed hands pressing frantically to his ears as Marie rubbed a hand up and down her back. Mordred growled loudly, nodding her head in agreement with a dangerous look in her eyes.

“I’m going to kill them!”

* * *

“Think you’re sobering up yet?” I wiry asked my fellow Master, as he released another pained groan. While I wasn’t taking any pleasure in the pain Rits was in, I felt satisfied in the knowledge that this would quite likely ensure that my fellow Master would never again indulge in drinking such vast quantities of liquor ever again, if he drank at all again.

After making my excuses with Mordred, we had left Masha and the others to deal with the rest of the party. The excuse was to check on Ritsuka, which wasn’t completely false. However, I did want to have a chance to talk privately with my partner, especially about the sleeping arrangements Mash and I had been coming up with.

Mordred was sharing a tent with Mash, and I with Ritsuka. It was going to be the first time since we started dating that the Knight of Rebellion and I wouldn’t be in the same bed as one another, and quite frankly, wasn’t exactly something I was looking forward to. However, I understood why.

As much as Mordred enjoyed the cuddling (no matter how fervently she’d deny it), if someone, especially Marie, Jeanne, or Astolfo, were to see her doing so, I feared the consequences. To make up for it, I had offered to do some one-on-one sparring with my partner early tomorrow morning. A proposition the action-hungry Saber gleefully accepted. I knew that I was going to regret it somewhat physical, but the smile she gave me was more than worth it.

With that taken care of, I finally found my fellow Master. Thankfully he was awake, though clutching his forehead, and Medea had explained to me that she had removed most of the effects of the alcohol that had been in his system. The mischievous Caster, however, had left her Master with just enough of a headache to ensure he wouldn’t forget about this.

Something that, quite frankly, I rather approved of. Thanking her and Jeanne, I had requested the three female Servants around us for a moment of privacy between Ritsuka and I, and had been given it. I stared down at the reclining form of my comrade-in-arms, my hands on my hips with a mildly reproachful expression on my face.

“Someone, please crack my skull open,” my friend grumbled bitterly, and I couldn’t hide the bark of dry laughter at his words. I raised my hands in the air slightly when he glared at me.

“Hey, you did this to yourself. Just be glad you won’t be getting to deal with the full set of experiences like 99% of the population would,” I said. Ritsuka muttered under his breath, but I patiently ignored it. Maybe I could have been more sympathetic, and if this was happening back in Chaldea, I would have been. However, in Chaldea we were not. While I didn’t think that we had to be as uptight about completing the mission to the degree that Mash was, that didn’t mean that discipline wasn’t required.

“Ugh, fine. What’s happened has happened,” Ritsuka groaned, propping himself back up. He looked up at me with a nervous yet serious expression. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, if that’s okay? It’s related to why I was behind schedule this morning.”

“So, what exactly happened last night, if I might ask?” I said, leaning back against the tree trunk bench opposite of the one Ritsuka was now sitting on. The lack of hickies or awkwardness from either him or Mash indicated that I hadn’t lost the bet going around in Chaldea about how long until Rits realized Mash was kinda crazy for him, and he had also had one of the most troubled expressions in his eyes that I had ever seen in him.

“I…I saw some of Mash’s past.” That single sentence wiped any trace of humor from my body. I felt myself frowning heavily. I had always been troubled by the amount of knowledge we had on that subject. Or rather, the lack thereof such knowledge. The fact that Rits looked so troubled certainly felt like an ill-omen.

“What did you see, if I may ask?” I inquired, making sure to phrase my question in a manner that didn’t seem forceful. After all, he had never done so when I had occasionally brought up those of Mordred, and this was something that was between Mash and him.

However, if there was some way I could help, I would gladly do so. Mash was also my friend, after all. Even Mordred, abrasive though she was prone to being, seemed to have a (somewhat) soft spot for the Demi-Servant, in her own unique way.

Ritsuka took another deep breath, exhaling long and slowly. Then, he began explaining. With each word, I felt my brow furrowing as a wave of concern spread across my body. By the time my friend had finished, my fingers were furiously drumming a frantic tattoo on my right thigh.

“That…that is quite troubling,” I finally said after a few minutes of contemplation. Ritsuka gave me such a deadpan expression I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly. Apparently more than just my combat skills had been rubbing off on my younger teammate.

“I’m not going to even comment on that,” Ritsuka said dryly, and I grunted my acknowledgement half-heartedly. I knew that with how evasive Mash had been whenever Ritsuka or I brought up the topic of her past, it hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. However, vague though it was, this was beyond anything I had imagined.

“When you found out about Mordred’s past, what did you do?” Ritsuka asked nervously, fidgeting with his fingers. I took a deep breath as his words brought up a collage of memories bombarded my mind. I shook my head slightly, dismissing them.

“I kept quiet about them,” I admitted with a sigh. “Course, Mordred would be the one who typically brought them up.”

“Are you suggesting that perhaps I should do the same?” Ritsuka asked warily, and I hummed, not answering immediately.

“No. Unless something directly related to her past pops up, especially if it interferes with her ability to continue resolving our present delime, it might be for the best to keep quiet on this.” I raised a hand as Ritsuka opened his mouth, forestalling his inevitable protests. “That being said, we’re not going to ignore this, Rits.”

Rits sighed heavily in relief, his shoulders sagging slightly. “You got some sort of a plan you’re cooking up, Jacob?”

“Divide and conquer. You keep working with Mash and let me know if you discover anything from her memories when the next sequence happens. Yes, you will have another one, I just don’t know when,” I added quickly when Ritsuka tilted his head slightly in an inquisitive manner.

“Okay, but what about you?”

“When we get back to Chaldea, I’ll try to do some digging. I said we won’t press Mash. That’s not to say that I won’t try to see if I can access Chaldea’s memory banks or asking around.” Ritsuka nodded grimly.

“Thanks, Jacob.”

“Heh, no problem, Rits. Just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean we’re not also partners,” I said with a playful smirk. Ritsuka looked at me, gob-smacked, for a second before throwing his head back and laughing. “Come on, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be yet another big day, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Speaking of things being finished, as some of you may know, the first one-shot of an eventual collection of supplemental materials to The Will to Fight was posted on Saturday, titled 'Lament of a King'. It's a short one-shot set during chapter 49, so feel free to check it out! If you ever have suggestions, never be afraid to suggest them! Always fun to hear interesting and new ideas, ya know? :) Anywho, what did you all think? Good, bad, meh? Have any favorite parts?
> 
> Not much else to say currently, for once, so onto the question(s) of the chapter! First up: If I write a movie one-shot featuring the Knights of the Round Table, if I don't have the movie they watch be Monty Python and the Holy Grail, how disappointed/mad/upset would y'all be?
> 
> Second question: What's your favorite academic subject?
> 
> Third question: I was watching A Certain Magical Index over the weekend (specifically Season 3) and saw the character Princess Carissa. If you have seen the series, or want to look it up, let me know if you think she looks/reminds you any of Mordred
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and for all of the love and support throughout the past months since I first started writing this story of mine! Not sure if I would have reached this point (or further) otherwise, so thanks again! As always, please leave any thoughts and opinions and all in a comment, or subscriber, bookmark, leave a kudo, yadda yadda yadda lol. I'm eagerly awaiting to read what y'all think, hoped you enjoyed Chapter 54, and I will see you in the next chapter!
> 
> As always, here's a link to join my Fate/Stay Night and related fandom discord community forum: https://discord.gg/VWvZ6sgavF


	55. Open Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred spar some, Mordred thinks back on the past few weeks, and our protgonast's first foray on the open ocean with Drake begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! Hope you all enjoy, and see you below in the end notes!

I stifled my yawn as I rose up from my bedspread, the dawn light poking through a small hole in the side of the canvas tent Drake had lent Ritsuka and I. My fellow Master was fast asleep, snoring away softly. I took a moment to listen, managing to drown out the noise he was making.

Utter silence beyond the typical noises one would encounter in an outdoors setting like the one we were in. Bird chirping, leaves rustling, and the faint sound of the ocean if you strained your ears hard enough.

“Sounds like everyone else is still asleep,” I said softly. Almost as if he could have heard me in his dreams, Ritsuka gave a soft snort, before rolling to the side, his back now facing me. Though thankfully he hadn’t drunk any more rum, but the booze clearly had taken a toll on his body. Either that, or he was immersed in another dream sequence with Mash or one of his other Servants.

Judging by the lack of discomfort or distress on his features before he had rolled over, however, I felt that was highly unlikely to be the case. Thank goodness for that. Personally, I was impressed that I managed to get a decent night’s rest myself, considering all the noise and drunken singing Drake, her crew, and a drunk Astolfo, Nero, and Jing Ke had made.

Honestly, I really pitied Amadeus right now. If the arguing between Kiyohime and Elizabeth had been agonizing for him back in Orléans, then last night must have been like some kind of hell for him. I made a mental note to figure out some way to make it up to my Caster, either before or after we return to Chaldea.

I gave off another, soft yawn, before carefully moving towards the entrance, grabbing my sword, dagger, and overshirt while on the way out. I had promised Mordred a spar this morning, and if she was up, I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting any further.

Finally stepping out of the tent, I blinked my eyes rapidly several times as they were exposed to more sunlight. When I had finished, I grinned to see a familiar figure standing a few yards across from me.

“Finally,” Mordred said with a rather dramatic huff, in her armor but without her helmet. My partner was leaning against Clarent, the tip of the massive sword pressing into the ground. “I thought you’d never wake up.”

“Impatient as always, aren’t you?” I snarked back cheekily. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Mordred grunted. The blonde knight was bouncing back and forth on the back of her heels, not even trying to hide her impatience. “I thought we were going to be sparing, not talking.”

“Not like we can’t do both,” I retorted, and Mordred nodded a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. I was probably one of the few, if any, who could talk back to her so casually without a fear of relation.

Or at least, of harmful retaliation. Mordred smirked ferally.

“Oh, feeling confidant today, are we?” She asked teasingly. “Last I checked, the score was 21-0.”

“Twenty-two, actually” I grumbled under my breath, causing Mordred’s smirk to expand. I love her, I really do, but damn, if that ego of hers doesn’t sometimes get too annoying! At least it is an ego that is backed up by skill, though.

“Then I guess this is going to be 23-0,” she taunted, and I growled softly.

“We’ll see…”

* * *

Mordred smirked savagely under her helmet as she caught her partner’s blade with the back of her left gauntlet, before swinging Clarent at his side using the flat of her blade. Her Master grunted, and leapt backwards a few yards, having activated his Magical Circuits just in time to dodge the attack.

Jacob wasn’t all that bad of a sparing partner, especially as seeing how he wasn’t a Servant. Sure, Mordred didn’t have moments where she found having to hold back somewhat to be aggravating from time to time, but he was much better than those simulation Servants Da Vinci had wiped up for letting the Knight of Rebellion and Chaldea’s other Servants practice their fighting skills, and to alleviate boredom for those who didn’t enjoy doing nothing.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that she and Jacob hadn’t done anything. Honestly, it was both exciting and nerve-inducing, their new-found relationship. While she wouldn’t admit to it, and in fact hadn’t to Jacob in particular, the blonde knight rarely got to have a truly peaceful time sleeping. Or at least, that was until the night they had first kissed, and pretty much every night since then.

Of course, it did chip away at her patience (and sanity) over how Marie and, to a lesser but still grating degree, Jeanne were constantly inquiring as to the activities she and Jacob would get up to. Which, to be frank, wasn’t much. The occasional kiss in the privacy of his (or was it now their?) room. Sharing the same bed. But other than that, it was the same as when she had first met him. Quite frankly, that was an outcome she was perfectly fine with. She didn’t know how best to describe how she felt during those moments with him, other than happy.

And she wasn’t going to give that up.

Mordred quickly raised Clarent as her partner unleashed a flurry of slashes and strikes. Each time his sword clanged against hers. He didn’t have a look of irritation on his face, but his eyes _did_ bulge slightly when she lightly tapped his stomach with her knee, pushing him back. The blonde knight had dismissed her armor in that area just before impact to minimizes the damage at least.

“Should have seen that coming,” Jacob grumbled, circling around her warily. Mordred’s smirk merely widened as she stood still, though adjusting her angle slightly when needed.

Speaking of grumbling, it had been surprisingly entertaining to listen to a flustered Mash last night going on about Drake’s dismissiveness over the ‘dire situation that we had to resolve, the last place to be throwing parties,’ and about how her Master was foolish for getting drunk.

Definitely a much better comrade than Galahad, that’s for sure. She sidestepped the sudden thrust of Jacob’s sword, letting him run past her before tripping him up and causing his sword to fall out of his hands as he landed firmly onto his back. He started to push himself off when Mordred walked over, dismissing Secret of Pedigree.

“Yield,” Mordred said proudly, the tip of Clarent just hovering over his Adam’s apple. Once again, her winning streak was unblemished as he grunted and signaled his surrender. Mordred swung Clarent to the side and dismissed her weapon, offer her partner a hand, which he accepted and he pulled him back up onto his feet with zero effort.

“You know, one day I will win,” Jacob said, her Master giving her a clearly fake scowl as he patted down his pants, getting rid of the dirt. Mordred gave off a soft bark of laughter.

“Maybe in your dreams,” she said playfully. Jacob snorted in amusement, and she smirked at him, before suddenly sensing the presence of someone else nearby. She whirled around, ready tor react to whoever they were.

“Have a nice spar?” Drake said, hands on her hips, a wide-ass smirk on her face.

“It was certainly fun,” Jacob said, giving Mordred a lopsided smirk as he picked up and sheathed his sword. “So, what’s the plan today, captain?” She saw that there were now more people up and about, and that the tents were starting to be brought down and packed up.

More importantly to her, however, she could smell the scent

“Grab some grub, we’re leaving in the next hour or so!” Drake called out, already heading back to camp. Jacob made an ‘after you’ gesture, and Mordred lightly bumped his shoulder with her fist as they headed back to camp.

* * *

“All right, we’re setting sail! Drake roared from the quarter deck excitedly. “Raise the flag, the _Golden Hind_ is moving out!”

“Aye-aye, Boss!” Bombe replied with a sloppily salute. Drake’s first mate began barking out orders similar to the ones his captain had given him, and more of Drake’s crew began to scramble around. However, it was in a surprisingly-organized manner. A trait that distinguished a well-trained and veteran crew, despite their scruffy appearance and mannerisms (or in the case of the latter, the lack thereof).

“Blast that cannon! Let’s liven things up!”

“Aye!”

The ship rocked to the side slightly as one of the canons lining either side of the ship belched fire and smoke. Mash, Ritsuka, Mordred, and I were all grouped up at the ship’s forecastle. Despite her attempts, I could see that Mordred was still nervous about being on the open water, and I gently nudged her arm with my elbow reassuringly, while Mash sighed softly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, while Ritsuka moved closer to our friend.

“You’re still getting used to the ocean?” He added softly. Mash nodded at the both of us.

“Yes,” the pink-haired girl admitted quietly. “We saw never-ending land the last time, but I’ve never experienced an ocean as far as the eye can see.” Mash stilled and I frowned, as did Ritsuka. Antarctica was surrounded by water. If she had lived at any point outside of Chaldea, surely she would have seen such a sight by now. “Ah, don’t worry, I haven’t let my guard down,” Mash added quickly, having noticed our expressions and taking two and two to get three.

The Demi-Servant turned to Rits with a contemplative look in her violet eyes. “Senpai, you seem to be having fun. Unfortunately, this is not the time for that. I’m afraid things will be slightly different this—” A shrill cry overhead interrupted Mash’s little speech, and the Shielder looked up in awe. “Ah, Senpai! Seagulls! Seagulls overhead!”

“In my family, we call them rats with wings,” I remarked as a trio of said flying pests took off from their perches on the main mast. Still, it was adorable to see the surprisingly-sheltered Mash gazing around in wonderment at what were apparently new experiences for her. It really was both heart-warming and heart-wrenching.

“And look, I see more pirates on the deck!”

….Wait, what?

Sure enough, several dozen or so pirates had appeared out of nowhere on the main deck! “Well, this is a problem…”

Mash coughed awkwardly. “Ahem, now, here I go!” She said resolutely, summoning her shield while Mordred did the same with Clarent, her helmet reassembling itself and obscuring her savage grin once more. I gesture to Ritsuka to stay back as I gripped the hilts of my own weapons.

“Captain, enemy boarders over here! They’re not with us!” I hollered as the intruders drew out cutlasses, hatchets, and a few firearms. I drew forth my own weapons, the steel blades emerging into the sunlight with shrill ringing sounds to the. “Team, take them down hard and fast!”

I didn’t have time to acknowledge any responses, for a large, burly man charged at me, swinging his cutlass down. I swiftly positioned my sword horizontally, caching the broader blade of the cutlass with my own blade. My attacker tried to push forward, seeking to overpower my guard, and also not noticing my free hand.

He stiffened as I plunged my _pugio_ dagger into his exposed and unprotected armpit, twisting the blade for good measure, before placing one of my booted feet to his midriff and kicking him away from me.

I heard the sound of a flintlock being cocked, and my eyes widened as I saw a second pirate glaring hatefully at me, getting ready to pull the trigger of his pistol. He was too close to reliably miss, but too far away for me to strike him down in time.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” A familiar voice hollered before a flash of crimson and lighting appeared before me. I heard a swooping sound, and then saw a large splash of crimson erupt diagonally across the pirate’s chest, before his body suddenly vanished. Mordred looked over my shoulder, and while I couldn’t see her face, I could sense her looking at me reproachfully.

“Be more careful, will ya?” Mordred growled. It wasn’t in anger but one of her unique ways of showing concern over my wellbeing, and I nodded at her display of concern. Two more pirates charged us, and I scoffed derisively at the one swinging a hatchet at me, while Mordred snarled and cursed at the one charging towards her, and I lost sight of her.

“Do you mind? I was trying to apologize to my partner,” I growled, gritting my teeth before using my dagger to slice through the wooden shaft of the pirate’s weapon. A follow-up thrust of my sword dealt with the threat. “I swear, absolutely no manners!” Just like with the last two slain pirates I had seen, the body faded away almost instantly. It wasn’t exactly the same way that a Servant’s did, but more like the wyverns we had dealt with in Orléans.

I felt both relief and mild confusion. Relief because unlike in Rome, I wasn’t killing fellow humans, and confusion because if they weren’t humans or Servants, what were they, exactly?

Lu Bu’s roar shook the ship as the sole Berserker of our party cleaved in two almost a half-dozen attackers with his halberd. Drake and her pirates had joined in, too, though mostly keeping their distance and using muskets and flintlock pistols to pick off the enemy numbers.

Despite their supernatural arrival, it seemed that the attackers weren’t any stronger or more dangerous than the non-Servants fighting them. The fight was over in only a few minutes, with no casualties of any sorts sustained by our side.

“Whew,” Mash sighed, rubbing the back of her free hand across her forehead. “I’m all sticky from sweat and seawater,” she sighed, blushing slightly. I grunted sympathetically and sheathed my own swords. I had no need to flick them to shake off the blood that had been covering the blades, as both it and the various bodies had vanished the instant they fell, just like the ones Mordred and I had dispatched at the start of the fight had.

It was unusual, but at the same time, kinda par for the course for us.

“Hey, hey, Jacob,” Drake said, striding over towards us. A concerned look was on her features as her crew shook off their confusion at the vanishing bodies of the defeated enemy pirates and went back to their various tasks. I saw out of the corner of my eye a giddy Astolfo climbing up to the crow’s nest, and quickly muttered an apology to the poor lookout already up there as Drake came to a halt. “You guys got a second?”

“Yes, what is it?” Mash asked politely, dismissing her shield. Was it just me, or did Drake look uneasy for once? The pink-haired woman gestured behind her at the main deck with one hand, while the other rested against the handle of one of her flintlocks.

“What the devil was that? First, those people appeared out of nowhere, and now they have vanished! Have you lot encountered this before?” Drake asked us sternly. I grunted softly, frowning.

“I’ve seen something similar happen before, but I’m not sure I am the one qualified to give a definitive answer. Doc?” I asked, raising my right arm and activating my commlink.

“ _One moment,”_ Roman responded, humming under his breath as he did whatever it was that he deemed necessary in order to acquire the requested answer. “ _Okay, just as I thought. It seems like it is the concept of pirates that exist in these waters.”_

“…Meaning?” Ritsuka asked the question we all were now thinking.

“ _A concept is a type of spiritual body etched in the memories of an era. In this case, the memories of the ‘Age of Exploration’. They can only act to fulfill their roles. They have their own will, but are models of an idea. Call them an infinite copy of the ‘average pirate’, if you will. On their own, they shouldn’t do too much damage, but unless the world is correct, I’m afraid these ‘bugs’ will keep spawning forever,”_ Roman finished apologetically. So, kinda like a video game, almost. I snorted in dry amusement at that thought.

“…and what do you mean by that?” A still-confused Drake demanded.

“If I had to sum it up in a single word, those pirates are like…ghosts,” Mash said, trying to be helpful like always. Drake actually flinched slightly at the mention of that last word.

“But, they took damage from bullets and swords, you know? Not just mine either, from the scallywags as well,” Drake countered, speaking just a tad faster than normal. Was she…was she actually afraid of ghosts? Mash hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin slightly before replying.

“Sorry, let me rephrase that. Think of them as ghosts, but ones with physical bodies.” Drake laughed, her body relaxing instantly.

“S-So they have physical bodies. Then we’re okay! There’s no problem!” I opened my mouth to comment on Drake’s reaction, paused, and then closed my mouth after realizing that it might not be the best thing I could do. Thankfully, Mash was the one still speaking.

“Yes, that’s correct,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Now, let us be on our way!”

* * *

It had been a few hours since then, and I was having trouble fighting the sensation of boredom as the _Golden Hind_ continued sailing, seemingly aimlessly. Of course, I was confidant that Drake and her bunch knew exactly what they were doing, but the lack of action was starting to kill me. (Or was it Nero and the pirate crew’s combined singing ‘skills’?)

That, of course, meant that Mordred was in the same mindset times ten. Luckily, the Saber hadn’t tried to challenge anyone to a mini-spar to kill time. Easygoing though she seemed to be, I didn’t think that Drake would take it well if Mordred or someone else tore up the wooden planks of the main deck or some other form of damage to her vessel. Didn’t keep her from complaining, nor me from being a sympathetic ear for the Servant.

“This is worse than a normal day at Arthur’s court,” Mordred groaned, leaning her head back as she sat down against the forecastle. She had avoided the areas that were railing, opting instead for the bulwark section of the forecastle. I was seated next to her, my knees curled up to my chest. Further away, but still within hearing distance, Mash and Ritsuka were leaning against another section of railing.

“At least this time we won’t have to worry about Nero trying to steer the damn ship,” I said, earning a bark of laughter from the surly-looking knight.

“Yeah, if she had, I might’ve been forced to punch her lights out!” Mordred exclaimed. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Might have?” I drawled, remembering the disdain Mordred had towards Nero. The Emperor of Roses, for good or ill, hadn’t really reacted to the enmity displayed towards her by the Knight of Rebellion, at least. Mordred had the dignity to blush slightly.

“I wonder when we will make our next stop?” She mused, clumsily changing topics. I hummed and poked my head up, taking a quick peek at the mass of clear blue water in front of us.

“We’ll just have to wait on Drake for that, I’ afraid,” I said in an apologetic tone as I heard a pair of boots tromping over towards us.

“Hey, Mash, got a moment?” Speak of the devil and she’ll appear. Drake leaned against the railing, staring out to the horizon next to Mash.

“Yes?” Inquired the Demi-Servant sounding both polite and yet hesitant.

“What do you think are in these waters, anyway?”

“If what the doctor says is true, there _might_ be a treasure here,” Mash admitted with a healthy dose of skepticism in her voice. “However, that means that these waters are basically the same as those in the Age of Exploration.”

“Meaning that there’s probably other pirates out there too, isn’t there?” Ritsuka said resignedly. Thankfully, we hadn’t encountered any more random-spawning pirates, but knowing our luck, there were, and some of them were probably Servants, too. Drake, of course, took this in stride, as she did with most things, laughing heartily.

“Ahah! That gets me all fired up! First come, first served. Is there anything simpler than that?”

“But Boss,” one of her subordinates (thankfully not Bombe for once!) pipped up, a coil of rope over his shoulder, “we don’t have any leads. Drake snorted derisively, though not cruelly.

“Fool. We’re going to start by finding those leads!”

“Island up ahead!” Astolfo cried out excitedly.

“Hey, that’s my job! I mean, Boss! An island in sight! East-northeast of here!” The aggravated lookout added.

“Helmsman! Make for that island! Lads, I think we just found our lead!”

“And a chance to step onto dry land,” Mordred muttered, and I snorted softly in amusement as I felt the ship wheeling around slowly in the water. The crew became extra lively, no doubt eager to see what our next stop would be holding in store for us.

“See?” I said with a lopsided smile. “Told you Drake would come up with something.”

The island was seemed to be somewhat smaller than the last one. Flatter along the coast, too. The sand was white and soft-looking, belying that annoying tendency of getting everywhere you don’t want it to. Further back from the beach, the sand gave way to earth, and a tropical-looking forest.

“It is indeed an island. Doctor?” Mash asked.

 _“Detecting a Servant signature on the island,”_ the ginger-haired man swiftly reported.

“Captain Drake,” Mash began, turning back to the pirate captain. “That island has one of those superhumans you mentioned last night. Please have your crew wait on the ship. Aside from us, you’re the only one who is capably of fighting them.”

“Already? Well, you guys are with me this time. Hey scumbags, protect the ship!

“Roger that, boss!”

“We look forward to your return!” A second pirate added. I turned to Ritsuka, motioning for him to lean closer, and he did so.

“I don’t think we should take all of our Servants with us. It’s not about Drake somehow betraying us. Rather, I’d feel more comfortable if there were some Servants to guard the ship against any other Servants.”

“Agreed,” my friend said softly. I turned around to look at my assembled Servants. I bit the corner of my lip briefly, contemplating on who to bring before finally coming to a decision.

“Mordred, Vlad, Jeanne, and Amadeus, you’re with us. Astolfo, Lu Bu, and Sasaki, you three stay here and help protect the ship,” I decided, and my six Servants acknowledged the instructions. I had chosen Mordred because honestly it would be weird to not have her nearby. Vlad because of his Noble Phantasm being potentially useful in an area with dense foliage, even if it was weaker due to us being outside of Romania.

As for Amadeus? That was more to give the poor Caster a break from the signing that would inevitably begin during our absence. I suspected that Amadeus had figured that out, as the beleaguered-looking stared at me with an extremely thankful look in his eyes.

“Medea, Nero, Marie, and Chiron, you’ll help guard the ship as well,” my fellow Master instructed his own companions. Not a bad choice. Medea would serve as a counter-mage force should anyone opportunistic enough tried to attack the Golden Hind while we were gone. Marie’s mount would probably not be useful in the forest, as I had decided on leaving Astolfo behind. The forest would also probably hinder Chiron’s far-reach capabilities.

“Good luck, Amadeus,” Marie wished her close friend, who smiled gently. For all that he professed to not love Marie, she certainly had a way of charming the composer. The other Servants began exchanging similar remarks of goo luck, while I watched as Drake oversaw the lowering of one of the rowboats to bring us to shore.

“If I somehow fall into the water, you better be right behind me,” Mordred muttered. I gripped her shoulder gently, reassuringly.

“It’ll be fine,” I whispered soothingly, while also making a mental note to teach Mordred how to swim when we got back. Maybe we won’t have to deal with a massive ocean in any of the four remaining singularities, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Alright, let’s find those leads!” Drake roared as she stepped into the now-ready rowboat. The shore-party quickly followed suit, and I watched as we were lowered gently into the water, then stared ahead as we moved closer to the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? Especially curious to see what you guys think of how I have decided to Mordred's thoughts on her new relationship with Jacob to be. Also, poor Mash, she really has missed out on so much! Speaking of poor souls, can't forget about that poor lookout Astolfo is hanging around with. (Astolfo is good person though) At least Amadeus will get a few moments of sanity (hopefully), right?
> 
> I started my final semester of classes in college on Wednesday, so wish me luck there! Will do my utmost best to maintain my standard three to five day update periods for the story, though obviously classwork and all will come first. Just gotta make it to May!
> 
> For the question(s) of the chapter: Do you enjoy going to the beach, or do you prefer to be more in-land? Second question: Who would be a worse helmsman, Nero or Astolfo? Finally, for all those FGO players out there, what are your current thoughts about the Fate/Kaliad (forgive me if I misspelt that) event? I personally am unsure of what to think, because sometimes the dialogue has me laughing, then the other times it has me cringing.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Please feel free to comment or leave feedback in some manner, and I hope you enjoyed chapter 55! Can't wait to see y'alls thought's and responses and all, and have a wonderful weekend! See you in the next chapter!


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company land and begin their first island exploration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, and time for an update! Was originally going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but I just ended up going 'Fuck it, let's just post it today!' Not much else to say, other than I hope you enjoy it, and see you in the end notes!

I surveyed the beach silently, my hand resting once more on the pommel of my sword, ready to draw it at the first sing of danger. Mordred had Clarent resting against her right pauldron like normal, and I could tell that she was pleased to be on dry land again, even if she didn’t overtly show it.

The other Servants spread out slightly, taking up defensive positions around Drake, Mash, Ritsuka, and I. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter any sort of ambush. No skeletons or zombies bursting out from under the sand. Nor were there any wyverns circling overhead.

I couldn’t help but idly wonder how long it would be before that changed. Probably less than an hour, if I had to be any real money on it. Hopefully more than a few minutes at least.

“We need to proceed with caution, Master,” Mash said, looking at Ritsuka with an especially stern expression. Apparently, the soft-spoken girl was still mildly miffed at Ritsuka for getting drunk last night. “We still don’t know if the Servant Doctor Roman detected is a friend or foe.” Drake hummed, looking towards the edge of the forest.

“Hmmmm, over there, perhaps?” Drake said. It was the only sort of warning we got before Drake suddenly unholstered her right flintlock and pointed it ahead, pulling the trigger the instant the barrel wasn’t aiming at any of us. The lock mechanism let out a loud click as sparks shot out as the flint struck the frizzen. Those same sparks flew down into the pan, setting off the black powder. A small cloud of white smoke and a flash of fire accompanied the sharp _crack_ as the lead ball whistled through the air.

A half-second later, I heard a soft thud as someone or something was hit, and then collapsed onto the ground. Damn, how did she see that?

“Fou?!?” Mash’s animal companion yelped in shock, almost falling off of Mash’s shoulder. The Demi-Servant had an equally shocked expression on her face.

“Ack! Drake? Did you see if that was an enemy?” Mash demanded frantically, eyes wide. “Ahhh! Fou, stop running around!” Mash said as the aforementioned critter leaped from Mash’s shoulder and scrambled around aimlessly on the beach. Amadeus was gritting his teeth, hands pressed against his super-sensitive ears.

“I sure hope so. Otherwise, you just gave away both our presence here and our current position,” I added in a calmer tone, staring at the pink-haired pirate with a raised eyebrow as she holstered the firearm.

“No,” Drake answered, looking serious for once. “But I felt a vague presence in that direction, so I took a shot.” So, she was acting on intuition, then. Well, at least that was a reasonable explanation if you asked me. Apparently, however, Mash felt otherwise, staring incredulously at Drake as she threw her hands up in the air.

“Vague? Took a shot?!?” Mash almost shrieked. It’s been only about twenty-four hours since we first met Francis Drake, and already the English pirate had caused Mash to be more expressive I have ever seen her in that timeframe than the past few months when I first met the Demi-Servant! Drake smiled impishly at the frustrated Shielder.

“If you got a bad feeling, fire first, ask later. That’s the key to survival, you know?”

“I can second that,” Mordred muttered dryly, and I grunted in agreement. Mash shook her head in dismay.

“How violent,” Mash muttered, shivering slightly as Ritsuka sympathetically rubbed a hand up and down her back. Her cheeks reddened slightly, but even the platonic (despite Mash’s wishes, I bet) gesture from her crush wasn’t enough to completely cheer her up. “That’s how an outlaw thinks!”

I cleared my throat, and Drake looked at me, unaffected by Mash’s comment. “So, did you get it?” I asked, wanting to refocus our energy on the purpose we came here. Drake laughed softly, giving an almost Mordred-style smirk.

“Hah! We won’t know until we check it out! I’ll go see if it’s dead or not,” Drake replied before sauntering off. Mash took a deep breath, calming herself down as an equally calm Fou deftly scaled up her back to return to his perch on her shoulder.

“Captain Drake is unlike Nero or you, Jeanne,” Mash remarked tilting her head to the silent saint, who smiled awkwardly at that. “She’s certainly…something,” Mash said, at an apparent loss of words suitable to describe her view on Francis. She sighed softly. “At any rate, like Jacob Senpai commented earlier, there goes our plan to proceed with caution. Senpai, Jacob Senpai, what should we do?”

“Well, first step is to keep calm,” I said, my gaze sweeping across the beach as Drake reached the last spot I had seen the barely distinguishable form of her target. Despite the noise she had generated, for the moment, we didn’t have to worry about some sort of horde of enemies bearing down on us.

“Yeah. We’ll just have to play it by ear,” Ritsuka decided, and I signaled my agreement with the concept with a slight nod of my head. Mash nodded in turn.

“Yes. I will calm down and play it by ear,” she said, sounding just a little bit stiff as Drake called out.

“Hey, Jacob! Come over here!” I motioned for us to all do so, and when I got there, I saw that Drake was crouched, holding something grey and rectangular. Whoever she had shot must have been one of those pirate concept thingies, seeing as how there was no body.

“A stone tablet?” Mash commented, looking at the object Drake held as the pirate stood back up.

“That’s right. Any of you able to read what’s written on it?” She asked, slowly waving the engraved stone at us. I furrowed my brow as my eyes narrowed. I could see the writing Drake was referring to, but it was neither French nor English. In fact, the letters weren’t of the standard Latin alphabet or based off of it.

I looked over, sparing Jeanne a look. I had been extremely surprised to learn that the blonde Ruler was actually illiterate, though it did make sense. After she had confided in me about this, I had offered and was teaching Jeanne how to read and write. Mordred shook her head, looking bored as always during these moments, and one by one the other Servants accompanying us also indicated their inability to read and translate the tablet.

That was, until Chulainn got a chance.

“I can’t read them, but I’m pretty sure those are runes,” The Irish Lancer said. While it wasn’t as good as if he had indicated that he could translate the runes, at least we knew now what we were dealing with.

“Doctor?” Mash asked, fiddling with her device in order to allow Roman the chance to see the runes. However, the voice that came over the line wasn’t the one belonging to the acting-director of Chaldea.

 _“I see, I see,”_ Da Vinci hummed idly. _“These are relatively new runes. I’d say that they were carved within the last week or so.”_

 _“Um, Da Vinci? That’s my job, yes? Don’t take my job, okay?”_ Roman asked, sounding absolutely unamused by the Caster’s antics. Said member of Chaldea merely laughed softly, before humming again.

“ _Let’s see here…’Bloodaxe King, once laid to rest, shall awaken once more’. That’s the general gist of is, at least,”_ Da Vinci said casually, while I frowned slightly. Bloodaxe King? Well, didn’t that sound like one friendly person. It couldn’t be something like Friendly King. “ _But, Bloodaxe King? Why does that name sound familiar—”_ At that moment, Roman let out a loud yelp of alarm. Da Vinci in turn released a squawk as we heard the sound of rustling cloth.

 _“Th-The Bloodaxe King is the name of the Viking king who ruled Norway during the 9 th century! Also, I’m detecting readings similar to those copied pirates from earlier coming from that stone tablet,” _Roman said in his normal rapid and borderline panic tone.

“Enemies?” Mash asked. If it was anyone else, I would have presumed the question to be a rhetorical one. Not from Mash, though. Drake cursed under her breath and threw the tablet away from us, drawing both of her pistols.

“Yeah, it appears so. I’m getting a very bad vibe here. Get ready for a fight! First to strike is the winner!” Drake called out as large crunching noises could be heard. It sounded like boots tromping through the undergrowth.

About thirty or so ‘pirates’ appeared from the forest, armed with cutlasses and hatchets only this time. The lead one waved a rusty-looking cutlass menacingly over his head before pointing it at us.

“For King Eric, our great and glorious leader!”

The cry was repeated several times. I was willing to go out on a leg here and presume that ‘King Eric’ and this ‘Bloodaxe King’ were the same person. I looked over my shoulder, seeing the Servants accompanying Ritsuka and I already drawing their own weapons and adopting their combat postures.

Fight first, question time afterwards.

“You know the drill! Take them down, hard and fast!” I roared as I drew forth my weapons. The Servants summoned by Ritsuka and I all brandished their own weapons as the enemy force charged forward.

* * *

The battle was over quickly. Ritsuka felt a bit nauseous at the carnage. A sensation he had felt one time too many in the last singularity, albeit rather reduced this time around. At least this time, however, they were only killing copies of people, and not actual people.

Still, it was a bit unsettling to watch his friend as he fought besides their Servants. In particular, the look on his face. It wasn’t one that indicated he took any pleasure in the killing, thank god, nor enjoy the thrill of combat like Mordred or Chulainn do. No, the unsettling part of it was the overall _lack_ of emotion on his face. Cold, dead eyes as Jacob stabbed one of the pirates in the armpit with the dagger he had been gifted by Nero.

Ritsuka nervously thumbed the pommel of his own dagger that the Emperor of Roses had gifted to him. He hadn’t yet drawn it in anger, a status that Jacob seemed intent on maintaining despite all of the combat lessons he, Chiron, and a number of other Servants had been imparting to him. While he didn’t enjoy the feeling of not contributing as much as Jacob did at times, he wouldn’t deny that he was in any hurry to…to kill.

But when would that end? That was a question that troubled him greatly each night. Just as it was now as the last few remaining enemy pirates were dispatched, and Mash returned to his side once more.

“Whew,” Mash sighed loudly, dismissing her shield before stretching her back slightly. Ritsuka’s eyes took in the profile of her body as certain aspects were emphasized slightly by the motion, before feeling a bit guilty about some of the thoughts that were running through his head. Yes, Mash was a rather attractive girl, but she was his friend, too! “The battle has ended, Master,” Mash reported dutifully.

“ _Searching surroundings,”_ Roman added over Mash’s still-open commlink. They all waited a moment in silence, waiting for the acting-director to report his findings. “ _Nothing detected. The Servant that I detected earlier appears to be right where they were originally. Perhaps they haven’t noticed us?”_ Roman mused, before clearing his throat. _“Anyway, you guys need to get out of there fast.”_

“Roger that. Let’s move on,” Mash said bluntly. Next to Ritsuka, hands on her hips, Captain Drake was….sniffing the air? He looked at Jacob, who merely shrugged his shoulders. Ritsuka looked back towards the pink-haired pirate when she suddenly huffed in displeasure.

“Treasure,” she muttered loudly. “Will I get a whiff of that treasure?” Mash groaned softly.

“Captain Drake, treasure doesn’t _have_ a smell.” Apparently, Mash’s response was entertaining to Drake, for the English pirate threw her head back and laughed.

“You think so, Mash? Treasure does indeed have a scent.”

“Is its scent like booze?” His fellow Master asked dryly with an arched eyebrow, and Drake winked at him, while Mash’s jaw dropped.

“What?” She asked, and Ritsuka could tell that she was overwhelmed with disbelief. Drake merely smirked at his kouhai.

“Ah, that look says you don’t believe me! If there’s treasure up ahead, like I said….” Drake trailed off for a moment, rubbing her chin as a thoughtful expression appeared on her face. “Hmmm, what should we do?” Then her eyes lit up in excitement, and she snapped her fingers. “I know, how about coming with me on a trip around the world, Mash?”

“Around the world, you say?” Mash asked, and Ritsuka could sense the warring sides of excitement and skepticism in her voice. Drake nodded, a toothy smile on her lips. Did she sense blood, much like a shark?

“When I flee these waters and return to England, I’m going to sail around the world on the _Golden Hind_. So, what do you say? If you help me out, I bet I’ll be the luckiest pirate ever.” Ritsuka had to hide the smile creeping onto his lips as Mash blushed, another one of her more innocent, child-like looks in her eyes. Those were some of the most adorable moments to witness, in his opinion.

“Around the world…” Mash whispered softly. Drake turned to look at him.

“Of course, Ritsuka will come along, too. You’re Mash’s Master, aren’t you? And what about you, Jacob?”

“I’ll think about it,” Ritsuka said, speaking up first. He forced the smile on his face, knowing already what the answer would be, even if he had agreed.

“I’ll see what I can do myself,” Jacob added, lowering his head slightly. Drake’s smile got even bigger somehow, and once more Ritsuka found himself comparing the happy-go-lucky pirate with a certain blonde Saber of his. Drake nodded solemnly even as she still smiled.

“All right, and if I lose….if I lose,” Drake mused, humming to herself under her breath before looking at Ritsuka and Jacob with an inquisitive glint in her bright blue eyes. “Is there anything else you want?”

“Nothing,” Ritsuka said in all earnest. Or rather, nothing that was within Drake’s ability to grant. Otherwise, he would have wished for his family to be safe. Drake frowned softly, and Ritsuka couldn’t help but wonder why as the pirate cocked her head to look at Jacob.

“And you?” Jacob chuckled, before looking at Mordred with a soft, affectionate smile.

“I have enough already,” his friend stated, and Ritsuka noticed how the Saber’s cheeks were beginning to turn a pinkish-red before her helmet covered her face entirely. However, Drake’s frown deepened, and she finally turned to look at Mash. The Demi-Servant shook her head.

“There is nothing I want, either. If I had to choose, having your assistance like this is enough.” Drake seemed to scowl for the briefest of moments before closing her eyes and shaking her head, her frame shuddering slightly as she laughed.

“Really? That’s really greedy, you got me there! That’s gonna cost you dearly!” Mash blinked, recoiling slightly as Drake jabbed a finger towards her, before looking towards Ritsuka, seeking assistance. Sadly, he was just as confused as Mash, and sadly shook his head with a small and sympathetic smile.

“E-Excuse me? Senpai and I both answered that we’ve been repaid actually. Jacob Senpai, too. In fact, we’ve gotten a good deal,” Mash finally responded. Drake clucked her tongue against her mouth with a reproachful look in her eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” She asked, sighing heavily with a shake of her head. “You said that you have no wishes. That’s the _most_ troublesome wish. Because you can’t but items that don’t exist. I am, after all, a merchant, among other things!”

“A merchant?” Ritsuka repeated, and Drake nodded proudly, puffing her chest out.

“Right! Now, if I can’t keep my customers happy, then I’ll be a third-rate one. And _THAT_ , I will not have. That’s why first, I need to get whatever it is you want. But you said that you couldn’t think of anything. Now, that is going to be a problem. How can I deliver something you don’t want?”

Roman made a sound of understanding. _“I see. I’m beginning to understand why this crude outlaw of a woman has that skill. Wait…”_

“Master!” Amadeus called out in alarm, and Ritsuka whipped around to see that Jacob’s Caster had a scowl on his face, staring ahead. The composer’s conductor baton was drawn.

“Amadeus, what are you hearing?” Jacob asked, his brow furrowed as the voice of a suddenly frantic Roman came from Mash’s commlink.

“ _The Servant signature from earlier is on the move. Looks like they sensed you guys. They’re coming in fast!”_

“And he’s not alone!” Amadeus added.

* * *

“And he’s not alone!” The Caster in our group called out, and the other Servants accompanying us summoned back into their heads their weapons.

“I don’t like this…” Jeanne said softly, her headpiece jingling slightly as she looked to the right and left. Next to her, Vlad grunted.

“Duly noted,” the Lancer said, his posture speaking of one at ease even as he tightly gripped his lance. “Orders, Master?”

“Let them come to us. Let’s see what we are dealing with first,” I replied, staring straight ahead as Mordred shuffled over to me.

“I’ll get you for that later, idiot,” my partner whispered, and I smirked.

“Of that, I have no doubt. Still worth it, though.” Mordred scoffed, and I accepted the silent victory in the exchange of words. A second later, I dismissed that smirk on my lips.

I could now hear the sounds of undergrowth being trampled, and the occasional dull _thud_ of something hitting the ground. Trees, perhaps? I gripped the hilt of my _pugio_ when a tree a few yards away from us suddenly fell down to the side, kicking up a light cloud of dust. I saw a shadowy figure amidst that cloud, and I waited patiently for the debris to settle so that I could get a proper glimpse of the one we were probably about to fight.

A large, shirtless man tromped forward, clutching a massive, crude-looking battle-ax made out of some unknown red and black material. He was ripped, much like Spartacus, but not unnaturally so, at the same time. He had a beard, but no mustache, and had brown hair a few shades lighter than mine. His eyes were a dark red, with the pupils being a crimson light. Above each of his ears was some sort of cut-off projection. Were those the stumps of…horns?

“Gagagagagaga! Gigigigi—giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

The Servant threw back his head, and a horrible, screeching, roaring, gargling noise made its way past his lips. I clenched my teeth tightly. Finally, the audio abomination ended, and the newcomer lowered his head, eyes still dancing with what surely had to be madness.

“M-My! My name! Eric! The Grand…Eric!” He said, and I was reminded of Caligula’s speaking patterns, with a dash of bestiality added in for good measure, though. He had to be a Berserker. Behind him filed out a dozen and a half or so more pirates. Each looked a bit tougher and stronger than the previous two batches of these copies we had encountered so far. The Servant, Eric apparently, violently stabbed the head of his weapon in our direction.

“Gah-go! Kill! Kill anyone in the way! Kill. KILL!” The Berserker shouted, and his followers roared their support, a madness of their own taking hold over them.

“He’s not going to be willing to listen to reason,” Mash said sadly, summing up the situation quite nicely.

“Seems so,” I said, my eyes looking over and taking note of the enemy numbers.

“Good luck, Mash,” Ritsuka said softly. Mash nodded at him, that determined look in her eyes reappearing once more.

“Yes, Mash Kyrielight—going in! Captain Drake!”

“Sure thing!” The busty pirate shot back, drawing out both of his pistols but holding them loosely in her hands. Drake had that excited look in her eyes as she stared directly towards Eric. “Vikings from Norway! They’re like my ancestors, you know? I’ll pay my respects, but also give him a dose of reality! Jacob, Ritsuka, this is how we say it in the pirate world! ‘Shut up, you bearded freak! The old need to retire!’”

I snorted softly in amusement. Even in a potential life-or-death scenario, Drake certainly had guts! I looked over towards my Lancer. “Vlad, Amadeus, can you focus your efforts on dealing with the chaff?” The two male Servants contracted with me nodded.

“Of course,” Vlad said simply in that rich voice of his. Amadeus’s grip on his baton tightened slightly.

“Normally, I don’t enjoy fighting. However, I find myself with an unexpected load of frustration to deal with. If it means getting to shed off at least some of it, I will gladly do so,” my Caster said sternly. I flinched slightly.

Yeah, Amadeus might have reached his limit here, it seems.

“Jeanne, keep close to Drake. She should be able to hold her own, but we can’t afford to take any risks,” I said, and the Maid of Orléans nodded. “Mordred, take him down.”

“Understood, master!” Mordred said excitedly, and I could sense her preparations to unleash her Mana Burst ability and (hopefully) deliver the first blow in the battle. Next to me, my fellow Master started giving his own set of instructions to his other Servants.

“Jing Ke, help Mash out. Chulainn, please assist Vlad and Amadeus.”

“You got it!” The blue-haired Lancer said with a wild glint in his crimson eyes. Jing Ke, meanwhile, merely sighed, shaking her head as she looked solemnly at the Berserker.

“If that is your wish, Master. You dare face us? Then you may as well have accepted death,” the Assassin declared bluntly. Eric shook his head ferally and howled, before charging forward.

And with that, our first true Servant-on-Servant battle of the Third Singularity began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Wait did you guys think? Slowly creeping closer to the end goal of hooking Ritsuka and Mash up! Another Servant fight, which will be seen from Mordred's perspective! Also, writing the game interactions between Mash and Drake is great! Also, Jacob being cheesy/fluffy! Wasn't that an adorable moment??
> 
> I swear, I'm not trying to pick on Amadeus here!
> 
> Who's excited for another Servant fight?!?
> 
> So far, classes seem to be going well, so double-knock on wood that keeps being the case. Yucky rainy day so far for me, but I hope today's weather has been far more pleasant for y'all! Also, looking forward to seeing the cheerleader routine video Zlatz is apparently making for me! (No pressure buddy!)
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: For everyone who is playing FGO, who else is looking forward to this year's Valentine Event?  
> Second question: Who wants to see Gareth being Mordred's big sister and interrogating Jacob when she is summoned and finds out about it?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading another chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it, and please feel free to leave some form of feedback! Can't wait to hear y'alls reactions and comments and answers! Hope you all have a good rest of the day, and see you in the next chapter!


	57. Eric Bloodaxe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company deal with the Berserker Eric Bloodaxe, and then make an important discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another update! Not much to say really, other than that I hope you enjoy and see you in the end notes!

Mordred roiled to the side as the massive axe slammed into the ground where she had just been standing on. A few small pellets of rock pinged off of her armor, and she lashed out even as she came to a stop.

The Bloodaxe guy certainly had strength, alright. Wouldn’t be a Berserker class Servant otherwise. However, it seemed that strength was all he had, even with the whole ‘Mad Enhancement’ trait a Berserker carried. He didn’t try to defend himself in any way, nor did he display any degree of tactics in his fighting style. Well, other than just swinging that axe of his around.

Another blow was blocked by Mash, the pink-haired Demi-Servant grunting loudly as she against her shield. Further back, Jeanne and Jing Ke were circling the raging Berserker, waiting for their own moments to attack, while a loud _crack_ indicated that Drake had taken another potshot not at the Berserker but one of his now-rapidly dwindling followers, most of them having been felled by Vlad.

She had heard tales about the skill and power displayed by Lancer of Black during the Greater Holy Grail War, but unfortunately for her, had never gotten the chance to fight against him in person during that event. While she did get to fight him back in Orléans, it wasn’t quite the same in a way. Even though Vlad was apparently weaker now due to not being in Romania, he would have still made for a rather impressive opponent, truth be told. In the opening seconds of the battle, Mordred blinked in shock at seeing three of Bloodaxe’s followers being impaled by stakes from below.

Close to Jacob’s side, a stony-faced Amadeus unleashed wave after wave of spells that seemed to affect the hearing of some more of the enemy pirates. Those affected grasped their ears and were helpless to defend themselves against Chulainn, as the Irish Lancer threw himself into the fray with great zeal.

However, she couldn’t afford to focus too much on the others, as once more Bloodaxe decided to focus his attention on her.

Cursing silently, Mordred rolled to the side as the axe whooshed through the air. A loud, wooden thud, followed by a creaking sound as the tree that had been behind her hit the ground. She let out a low whistle. Then, a smirk appeared on her lips, and she darted forward.

The Bloodaxe fellow released another one of those aggravating bleating roars of his, but Mordred quickly tuned him out, ducking or blocking the flurry of axe strokes he unleashed. She bit back a dismissive scoff.

For all that the other knights had called her a berserker, back in Camelot and when they thought she was neither around nor listening, Mordred felt pretty damn confidant in stating that she was more refined in her fighting style compared to the actual Berserker before her.

Ducking and rolling under a horizontal slice that could have sheered through her breastplate, the Knight of Rebellion darted around the enemy Servant, lashing out at Clarent at his exposed back. A line of crimson quickly followed the path that Clarent had gone, and Bloodaxe roared again, this time in pain.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the drunk Assassin darting forward. Materializing a knife, she stabbed the Berserker in the thigh and twisted the blade. Two loud cracks followed, and Bloodaxe stumbled away as Drake began reloading her flintlock pistols.

Somehow, he had managed to block one of the shots with the flat of his axe, but the other appeared to have lodged itself into his right shoulder. While not debilitating by Servant standards, Mordred had little doubt that it was still a pain in the ass for the Berserker.

Unfortunately for her teammates, (not for the challenge and battle-loving knight, of course!), the pain seemed to have given Bloodaxe _more_ energy. Mash darted in, spinning slightly to build up momentum with her shield before slamming it into the Berserker. Said Servant skidded back slightly, before grabbing Jeanne’s weapon as Mordred’s fellow blonde tried to skewer the Berserker from the side.

Having experienced a Berserker grabbing her weapon and throwing her around before, the Maid of Orléans released her grip and leapt backwards. At the same time, the flagpole disappeared, having been dismissed by its owner, and then reappearing in Jeanne’s hands.

Jing Ke tried her luck again, the Assassin lunging for Bloodaxe’s back. He must have sensed her, however, as Mordred watched him spin around and backhand her at the last second. A small spray of blood escaped from Jing’s mouth as the allied Servant was sent flying onto her back. The knight winced, glad once again to have a full-length helmet to protect her face.

“Oi, dumbass, over here!” Mordred said mockingly, waving Clarent around for extra emphasis. Sure enough, the shouting gained the attention of Bloodaxe, who once more released a horrid-sounding roar, and charged at her. Jeanne quickly helped up the battered Jing Ke in the meantime, but Mordred didn’t pay them any further attention. Instead, she focused on the enemy bearing down on her.

The blonde knight kept still as best she could. Move a moment too early, and the ploy would fall apart. Move too late, and she would take an unknown, but probably large, amount of damage. Her right fists tightly gripped Clarent’s hilt as she slowly lowered her sword to chest level.

Only a half-dozen yards now separated the two Servants. Bloodaxe had a massive, bloodthirsty sneer on his lips. He raised that axe of his over his head, the muscles of his arms bulging. Not yet. Bloodaxe swung the hammer downwards. She faintly heard her partner call out her name, but she didn’t reply.

Finally, she leapt backwards, and the axe didn’t hit any of the resistance its owner had been expecting, therefore burying itself deep into the ground, and temporary trapping the weapon.

Perfect!

As the shirtless Berserker struggled to free his axe from the ground, Mordred saw her chance. Activating Mana Burst again, she darted forward, jumping onto the half-buried head of the demonic-looking axe, just as its owner finally freed it. She tensed her legs before using the upward motion to launch her forwards through the air.

Now with even more increased momentum, the Knight of Rebellion hurtled forward, Clarent outstretched and in front of her like some sort of metal horn, aimed for the unprotected chest of the startled-looking Berserker. She braced herself for the imminent impact of metal against flesh.

With how rapidly she was closing the gap between her and her foe, the Berserker wouldn’t be able to dodge her sword. She heard the ever-familiar sound of metal piercing skin, and forced her arms forward, not wanting to let a single iota of the momentum she had built up dissipate.

The Berserker roared loudly, coughing up blood as her broadsword plunged deeper and deeper into the left side of his chest.

“Gi, gi, gi….Gia, ga, ga…Not giving it to you! It’s mine! It is…mine…but…” the bleeding Berserker rumbled, before suddenly vanishing. Mordred dropped to the ground, landing on her feet gracefully and flicking Clarent down to the side, shaking off the blood from her sword. Heh, another enemy Servant dealt with. It also felt a bit satisfying, considering what had happened last time she fought an enemy Berserker Servant.

Mordred turned around, smirking as she looked at Jacob after dismissing Secret of Pedigree. “Well, looks like that’s that!”

* * *

“Well, looks like that’s that!” Mordred said, her ponytail falling down her back as her helmet split apart and retracted into her armor. I didn’t immediately comment on it, other than a quick congratulations and compliment on the victory my partner had helped given us. My attention was mainly focused on a different matter.

I stared at the spot where Eric Bloodaxe had been standing. The blow Mordred had landed should have been fatal, no doubt about that. However, it felt that there was something wrong. Where had been the typical golden cloud of dust?

It reminded me all too much of the first time we thought against Caligula…

“Eric Bloodaxe has been defeated,” Mash said, reporting in to Roman. The man in question hummed softly, and from the sounds of it, I could imagine he was frowning somewhat.

 _“Wait, that’s odd. He vanished, but there’s still a Servant response…”_ Mash blinked in a mixture of alarm and confusion, her body starting to tense up.

“What’s the matter?” She inquired.

“ _Huh? It’s gone. Hmmm, since coming to this era, I’ve been off my game,”_ Doctor Roman said sadly. _“Sorry, the equipment’s still not in the best shape. I fear it’s going to be a little hard to track you in the short-term. I just did another scan, and there are no more Servant signatures on the island. You guys are the only ones on it now,”_ reported the ginger-haired man.

“I see,” Drake said with a lopsided smile, holstering once more her pistols. “Then how about we go on a treasure hunt?” Without waiting for any kind of response from us, the pirate began walking in the direction that Eric Bloodaxe and his followers had come from. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Ritsuka was staring at me with an inquisitive look in his eyes. I shrugged.

“Can’t speak for you guys, but personally, I got nothing else,” I said frankly, before looking back and walking rapidly after the retreating form of Drake, my Servants right at my heels. If there was one thing _useful_ Eric Bloodaxe had done for us, it was to carve a relatively clear path to wherever he had been before. The felled trees helped mark the way to whatever he and his followers had been using as their basecamp, too.

“Do you think there is treasure, Jacob Senpai?” Mash inquired politely. I shrugged lazily.

“I don’t.”

“Really?” Mash asked, and I shrugged again. “It would be interesting if there was one.”

“Just as long as it’s not another freaking Chimera,” Rits grumbled, and I snickered in amusement. Then, just as we approached the end of the tree line, Drake called out.

“Hey! Over here! I found something!” Drake’s voice rang out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mash perk up slightly.

“Huh? You did?” She called back, before turning to Rits. “Let’s go, Master!” The Demi-Servant declared, darting past me, Ritsuka close on her heels.

“Shieldy’s quite lively today, huh?” Mordred said dryly, and Jeanne giggled.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” I heard the Ruler say a bit impishly. I sighed dramatically, even as I smiled slightly.

“Marie’s corrupted you,” I said to a now-beaming Jeanne. Mordred scoffed, but she didn’t disagree. Whether she liked it or not, I hadn’t failed to notice that Mordred had been spending more time with the French Servants, in particular Jeanne. Of course, whether it was by choice or because the saint and Marie were dragging her along, I couldn’t tell.

When we reached Drake, I immediately noticed the ship beached. It was a long one, with a single mast in the middle. The sail was furled. One either side was a bank of oars stretching for what appeared to be roughly three-quarters of the hull. Unless my eyes were deceiving me, it looked like the stereotypical depiction of a Viking longship. If this wasn’t the one that Eric had been using, I would eat my hat!

“See this ship? I bet you a barrel of my best rum that king was using it!” Drake proclaimed confidently.

“Doctor?” Mash asked, speaking into her commlink as she eyed the ship in question.

 _“Miss Drake is correct. It’s a larger version of the ships Vikings used. Therefore, it should look like something out of the 9 th century. Yet, it’s as good as new,” _Roman finished, sounding bewildered by that fact. So, it must have been built recently. But how and where? Sadly, I doubt that I could hope for the answers to just fall out of the sky at any minute.

“It does not seem to be…a treasure.,” Mash said cautiously, eyeing a still-exuberant Drake. She merely shook her head and laughed.

“Sure it is,” she retorted with a smirk. “You guys wait here. If this is a Viking ship…” Whatever the rest of her sentence was, we didn’t hear, as she sprinted towards the beached ship and vaulted over the side. I tensed my body, ready to come to her assistance with our Servants, but there wasn’t any shouts or cries.

“Those pirates that were with Eric must have been the last of the crew,” Rits said. I grunted softly.

“So it would seem,” I said idly as I watched Drake jump off of the ship, waving some sort of thick, leather-bound journal of some sort. She sprinted back over to us, skidding to a halt in the sand and thankfully not kicking up a huge cloud of it into our eyes or something.

“Found it. Treasure!” Mash blinked.

“A book?”

“While I am sure that there is truth to the saying about the power of books, I presume that you are referring to its contents?” Vlad added, looking unamused. Drake nodded, opening up her find and flipping through the pages rather rapidly. Just like the ship, the pages appeared to have been new.

“Hm. When sailing, Vikings recorded _everything_ , from starting point to destination. They did it using pictures and glyphs. Coast shapes, shoal spots, current traits, paths, things like that. If they appeared out of the blue, that’s one thing. But if they sailed here...” Drake paused in her explanation, no longer flipping through the pages, and instead studying the two pages she had stopped at. “Yes, I smell fresh ink! This must be the chart for this island and its surroundings.”

“A rather priceless find,” Amadeus quipped, and Drake’s smirk took a bit of a feral edge to it as she nodded approvingly towards my Caster.

“Bingo. There’s no better treasure for us since we’re about to set sail into the seas again, right?” Drake said, and based off her body language, it looked like she was specifically focusing on Mash. Whether the pink-haired girl realized it yet or not, it seems that Drake had picked up quite the interest in Mash.

“…You have a good point,” Mash admitted rather grudgingly. Drake smirked, looking quite like the cat that had caught the canary. “Captain Drake, well…you seem violent, but you’re actually pretty pragmatic.”

“Impressed? Now, how about that trip around the world?” She asked, looking intently at Mash, Ritsuka, and I.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, opting for a vague answer that wouldn’t back me into a corner. Truth be told, I found the idea exciting, but sadly, there were several problems that prevented me from accepting Drake’s surprisingly generous offer.

“After this battle is over, perhaps,” Ritsuka said. Drake smiled warmly, not at all phased by a lack of committed answers. I couldn’t help but feel admiration for her apparent optimism and easy-going nature.

“I see, I see! With you guys, our strength would be a hundredfold! We’ll depart after restocking on food and water. It’s time to return to the ship in the meantime,” Drake said.

“Agreed. Not that I don’t trust Astolfo or any of the others, but I fear what we might come across if we dally any longer here,” I said, adding a tint of mock-horror to my voice and expression for a comedic effect. Mordred, Jeanne, Drake, and Chulainn busted out laughing, and the pink-haired pirate once more led the way back through the jungle, towards the _Golden Hind._ I placed a hand on Ritsuka’s shoulder, keeping him towards the rear with me. Mash looked like she wanted to have some words with us.

Turns out, my call was the right one, for we had barely started walking back when Mash walked over between us.

“Senpai, are you sure about this?” Mash asked in concern, staring at her (not so secret) subject of affection. “By correcting this era, the memories of us—” Ritsuka interrupted her with a low groan, face palming with a pained expression on his face. I bit back my sigh as I registered his response.

“I forgot about that,” my fellow Master admitted softly. Mash blinked in disbelief, before frowning sternly.

“Wait, Senpai…were you really planning on sailing around the world? Please stop teasing me!” She whined. I coughed slightly, both to quiet Mash before Drake made her way over here to see what was going on, and get my turn to speak.

“If that is the case, then what is the harm in it?” I added blithely. Mash hummed, before tilting her head slightly towards me in acknowledgement of my statement.

“True…I suppose as her memories disappear, the problem itself will be gone, but…” Mash trailed off.

“But it still feels wrong?” Ritsuka supplied.

“Yes.”

“Not much can be done, though. At least when we leave, it won’t be like with Nero, left all on her own,” I said gently, remembering about Rits telling me how bothered she had been by our abrupt departure from the Second Singularity. Mash nodded silently, and I nudged both her and Ritsuka forward. “You guys go catch up with Drake. I wouldn’t put it past her to take the rowboat back and leave us on the beach for a few hours as a joke,” I said, my tone quite serious despite the joking nature of my words.

Rits and Mash nodded, and ran ahead, leaving me in the back with Mordred. I turned to my partner. “Good work back there, by the way. Sorry for not commenting about it sooner,” I said apologetically. Mordred grunted, giving me a scrutinizing look.

“Something’s bothering you,” she said bluntly, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly. Finally bringing it back under control, I nodded towards the knight.

“Yes. That battle, it felt almost…too easy. This is not an insult to your abilities, I’m sure you know that,” I said a bit hurriedly, not failing to notice the arched eyebrow Mordred had. My words appeased her, though, thankfully, and she relaxed.

“This isn’t the first Berserker I have ever fought, as you know, but I will admit, something about the way he disappeared felt off,” the blonde knight admitted. “The doc said that the signature was still there for a moment, right?”

“Yes. That’s one of two things bothering me. That, and the fact that the normal sights I’ve come to associate a Servant’s death with weren’t witnessed. Namely, the whole dissolving into a cloud of bright golden dust .”

“Do you think he wasn’t killed, then?” Mordred growled when I slowly nodded my head. “Damn it, I hate it when bastards I run through don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘death’. Well, I defeated him once. I can do so again, easily,” my partner said, sounding like her typical cocksure self. I shook my head with a small grin, enjoying getting to spend some time chatting with Mordred as we headed back towards the area we had landed. Soon, the incident with the Berserker known as Eric Bloodaxe faded to the back of my mind, as the beach appeared once more.

* * *

About two hours had passed since we returned to the _Golden Hind_. Thankfully, the ship was completely fine and in one piece, as was the crew. Even more gratifying, at least for me, was seeing how none of them were inebriated.

Drake definitely knew how to run a tight ship, it seems. It was certainly a relief to also see that the Servants had been left behind to help protect the ship seemed fine for the most part. Medea seemed kinda irritated, but to be fair, that _is_ kinda a default expression for her.

Now, we were gathered on the poop deck, looking over a spread-out map from the journal Drake had retrieved, plotting our next course of action.

“Now, according to the map we’ve acquired, there’s a large island to the northwest. Considering our speed, it will take about ten hours. If we can catch the wind, maybe even less.” I bit back the urge to groan at that. Then again, we are in the age of sail, not the age of steam.

“Will we be stopping offshore for the night?” I asked instead, noticing how it was early afternoon right now. Drake nodded.

“Yeah. At least, that’s what I was hoping to do. Glad to see we’re of the same mind there.”

“In the meantime,” Mash said, raising her wrist-mounted commlink, “we can have the glyphs analyzed. Doctor, I’m transferring the data.”

“ _Very well,”_ Roman replied. _“One book shouldn’t be an issue over here. That said, I’d like to have a summoning point established soon. I’ll keep an eye out for any suitable location.”_

“Let’s hope that there’s a Leyline on the next island,” Mash said, and I grunted in agreement. Drake smirked, and turned to Bombe and the rest of her crew.

“All right, you scallywags! Time to set sail!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Sorry if the chapter is short, but the important question is, what were your thoughts on the fight scene? Was it bland, exciting, or just average? Personally, I really enjoy writing Mordred fighting, both because of her personality and because of her own, ahem, fighting-style. Also, methinks that Mordred is starting to make friends! This can only go well, right? :P Also, poor Eric, he came and went with the wind. Too bad he won't return or anything...
> 
> Also, silly Vlad.
> 
> You guys looking forward to seeing our favorite Minotaur Servant?
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the day: For FGO players, who are your top three favorite welfare Servants and why?  
> What's the most messed up/intense anime that you have ever watched that you enjoyed?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave feedback in any form! I hope you enjoyed it, and I can't wait to read what y'all thought! Have a wonderful rest of the day, and see y'all in the next chapter!


	58. The Mysterious Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief encounter with an enemy vessel, Jacob and Company arrive and begin investigating their latest destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another update! Enjoy!

The sun was starting to set, and it was quite frankly a breath-taking sight. Even Mordred was watching it, with an almost child-like innocence in her emerald eyes as the dying rays of light turned the sky and water golden. A similar expression could be seen on Mash’s face. Ritsuka and I shared a pleased look, ourselves happy with the scene in turn.

“Damn, I wish I had brought a camera,” I muttered under my breath. It was a really heartwarming moment. It wasn’t as if I also wanted to capture the moment of Mordred looking so adorable even if it might result in a bruised arm by a certain Saber who’d feel embarrassed. Not at all.

Still, it was nice to savor in the moment. Commit it to memory and all that sappy stuff, as Mordred might call it.

Drake walked over, joining us. She had a troubled look on her face. Mash finally managed to look away from the setting sun, and she titled her head slightly, concern replacing the look of awe. “Is something the matter?” Mash inquired. Drake nodded slowly.

“Yes. The air tastes different here.”

“Tastes….different?” Mash asked. Drake nodded, a more whimsical smile gracing her lips.

“In different countries and lands, the air changes flavor. The distance between England and France aside, when you travel to a new country, the air really tastes different.” At that moment, Mash’s commlink chimed softly. Apparently, Roman had something to tell us.

 _“Hmmm, perhaps Miss Drake can detect changes in the wind due to differences in temperature and currents?”_ Roman postulated. I opened my mouth to deliver my own response, but Drake beat me to it, snorting derisively.

“What’s with this ‘Miss Drake’ business? You sound creepy when you put it that way, Mister Scholar!” Drake retorted.

 _“S-Sorry. Please excuse me, Drake,”_ Roman stammered frantically. I cleared my throat a bit loudly, and he feel silent.

“Doctor, I think this might be a case of less of a scientific manner, and more of something developed over time. It would make sense for Drake to be able to distinguish any potential differences. However, since you called us, I assume you have something you wish to share?” I asked politely.

 _“Mhm. What Drake said earlier may be correct. Your current location has obvious different temperatures and currents than the two previous islands. With a little more time, I’m sure we can determine exactly where you are,”_ Roman finished, sounding quite confidant in himself.

“Meaning you could tell us that we’re in a big fucking ocean?” Mordred said rather dryly, earning several bouts of laughter from us. Roman didn’t answer, and I couldn’t blame him. Maybe he does get picked on a bit too much, but unfortunately, the well-meaning doctor had a nasty habit of leaving himself open to teasing.

“Boss! There’s a ship to the northwest!” The lookout suddenly cried out. Drake stiffened, as did I. We hadn’t encountered another vessel at sea here before.

“All right, what flag?” Drake said sternly.

“A pirate’s flag I’ve never seen!”

“So, an enemy!” Drake declared, just as I could see the faint outlines of a ship in the direction indicated by the lookout. “Mash, Jacob, Ritsuka, Mordred, get ready! Men, arm the cannon! We’ll give them a full broadside!”

Her crew cheered gleefully, as the battle lust pirates were often renowned for showed itself.

“Aye, Aye, Captain Drake!” Mash added, before turning to Ritsuka and I. “Master, Jacob Senpai, please stay behind me.”

“Yeah, neither of us want to see you two lose your heads to a cannonball,” Mordred added in a blunter tone. I swallowed slightly as the mental image of such a thing happening to me popped up, but I nodded in a gesture of acknowledgment. However, that didn’t mean that either my fellow Master or I were not going to be involved in the fight. I looked behind me and made eye contact with a silent Chiron.

“Chiron, do you mind helping Drake out by keeping the enemies pinned down with your arrows?” I asked. The Greek Archer nodded, summoning his bow and proceeding to notch an arrow. Once more I felt the urge to lament the lack of an Archer on my own team, but I could wait to bitch and moan about it later.

By now, I had a better view of the rapidly approaching ship. It was much smaller than the _Golden Hind_ , with only two masts. The sail setup was also different. Instead of square sails like the _Hind_ , they were more triangular in shape. There also seemed to be only a singular gun deck, which also served as the main deck. If my memory served me right, I think the design of the ship was called a sloop. A ship designed with speed in mind, perfect for pirates who desired speed and agility to outmaneuver any opponent stronger than it.

In other words, it was a crappy matchup for it to go against a ship as big and strong as the _Hind_. So, just what exactly was the crew manning the sloop thinking? Like so many other things that I had wondered about for the past few months, I’d likely never find out.

The battle was over within minutes once the sloop was within range of Drake’s cannons. The first broadside almost knocked me off my feet, having underestimated the force of the resulting recoil. The volley virtually shattered the starboard section of the hull. The attacking didn’t even have a chance to respond, with Drake using her Grail-enhanced marksmanship and Chiron’s own archery skills to decimate the surviving enemy pirates as they futilely tried to return fire.

The second cannon volley from the _Golden Hind_ finished the job, and I watched in morbid fascination as the enemy ship was completely submerged. In its place bobbed crates, fabric, barrels, and other debris. The only item of significance was the mostly intact flag.

“William, hook that banner and bring it aboard. I want to get a better look at it,” Drake said, holstering her pistols before turning to us. “That was almost ridiculously too easy,” she said, and I winced slightly at those words.

“Please don’t trigger any flags or something like that with those words,” I cautioned nervously. “Luck is quite the fickle thing, after all.”

Drake hummed noncommittally, but before the conversation could continue, one of Drake’s pirates approached us, carrying something bundled up in his arms that was dripping water.

“Boss, here’s their Jolly Roger,” a short, shaven-head pirate with a thick Welsh accent reported, handing over a now-tattered and soaked stretch of black fabric. Well, at least he had been thoughtful enough to fish it out of the water for us. The pirate laid out the flag on the deck, and we all peered at it.

In the center was a stylized, horned white skeleton. In one hand, the figure was holding up some sort of hourglass. Meanwhile, in the left hand was gripped a short spear. Said weapon was aimed at a bright red heart, the bottom of which had three circles that seemed to be indicating blood dripping from a wound the skeleton had inflicted upon the organ.

It looked familiar somehow, but if I knew who it belonged to, the name was escaping me, sadly. Drake hummed, hands on her hips as her brow creased.

“Hmmm, it doesn’t look familiar,” she finally said, before looking at Mash. “Mash, do you have any ideas?” Sadly, the Demi-Servant shook her head in turn.

“No. However, if it’s a famous flag, it’s probably in our records somewhere. Doctor, can you look into this?”

 _“Okay. You’ll have the results in the morning,”_ Roman promised us.

“All right, then I’m getting us going again. If this chart is right, the island should be in sight in the next few hours! We’ll wait off-shore for the night and explore the island properly in the morning.”

“A sound plan,” I said, titling my head forward slightly. “Personally, I want to put as much distance as possible between here and us. I don’t wanna be around if there’s more of those buggers.”

“Ha, couldn’t express it with finer words myself,” Drake said with an approving smirk. “You heard the man, boys, let’s get to it!”

* * *

The rest of the evening and night passed without incident. Well, aside from dinner that was. It was certainly an interesting experience, eating on a sailing vessel for the first time all while it swayed slightly as it cruised through thankfully gentle waves. We arrived at our destination and had spent the night in a cove Drake had noticed upon our arrival.

When morning came, the bright light given to us revealed a rather large island, no longer hidden by black, inky darkness. I had to take a few long seconds to fully accept what I was seeing. Towards the center rose a large, singular mountain, its peak covered slightly by clouds. On one portion of the island, there was a forest. One another half, however, there was a grassy field.

However, all the while, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that we were not welcomed here. That there was something on this island that wanted rid of us. I ruthlessly beat down that voice, though.

This island was currently our only lead. To refuse to explore it would be the epitome of foolishness. We needed to find out why this place was marked in Bloodaxe’s journal. Was it merely as a place to resupply, or was there something or someone important past the pristine beaches eagerly greeting us?

“You look a bit troubled,” Drake said, sauntering up over to the railing I was leaning against. I didn’t bother denying it. What purpose would it serve any of us? I pointed towards the mountain.

“That mountain….I don’t know why, but every time I look at it, I feel a shiver run down my spine,” I said softly. Drake hummed under her breath. She didn’t reply, apparently chewing softly on the inside of her right cheek before finally responding.

“Something does feel off. However, not exactly much we can do about it. We’ll just have to be ready for anything,” the pirate captain said. I heard several pairs of footsteps behind me, and I saw Mash, Mordred, and my fellow Master approaching us.

“Jacob, since our first foray is mainly going to be reconnaissance and hopefully setting up a connection with a Leyline, I thought that we’ll just take Mash and Mordred with us. Unless you have a problem with that?” Ritsuka asked. I hummed softly. While it is a smaller party then I would like, Mordred is considered one of Chaldea’s strongest Servants, and not just by me.

“Alright,” I said, while starting to take off my own commlink. “Jeanne, take this, won’t you?” I ask the nearby Ruler. She nodded and stepped forward with one of those gentle smiles she usually had present.

“To keep in touch should you need help?” Jeanne asked, and I nodded my head.

“Hopefully we won’t run into too much trouble, but I’d rather stack the deck in our favor in any way I can, ya know?” Jeanne laughed softly, before nodding in agreement.

“Very well. Just be safe, all of you.”

“Ha, Mordred’s tagging along. I’m sure it will be fine.”

Once again, I found myself impressed by Drake’s rowing skills. She was truly a hands-on kind of leader. No wonder her crew acted so devoted to her. It wasn’t just the wealth they gained by following her, but also the fact that she never acted like she was above them. A rough yet surprisingly charismatic character indeed.

The five of us took a few steps up the beach, once more making it ashore without any incident. Ironically, that only heightened my paranoia of being attacked. Though, considering the consequences of letting our guard down and somehow getting killed as a result, I would say that the rather-consistent feeling is justified.

While Mash made contact with Doctor Roman, I stood with one hand resting lightly on the pommel of my sword. I swept my gaze across the edge of the beach, on the alert for even the faintest hint of movement. Mordred was next to me, doing something similar, while Drake was in her usual relaxed and care-free state of mind.

“ _Yes, this island is way bigger than the other one,”_ Doctor Roman said, having taken a minute or two to map the surface of the island. _“That’s why we were able to locate a Leyline. I’m sending you the coordinates, so just follow them for now. Do be careful, though,’_ Roman added, perhaps a bit unnecessary. Still, I can’t blame the guy for worrying about us. I’d rather have an over-worried boss compared to a sociopathic one, after all.

“Hostiles?”

“ _Possibly, but unknown for sure. We’re currently dealing with some unusual interference on our end, unfortunately. Damnedest thing, too. Anyways, best to proceed with caution.”_

“Acknowledged,” Mash said, before looking to a bored Drake. “Drake, we’d like to head that way. Would that be all right with you?” She asked politely, gesturing in the direction Roman had given us. Drake smiled happily.

“It’s fine. I was thinking of going in the same direction myself!” Mash nodded with a pleased expression of her own.

“Then we’ll depart. Let’s go, Senpai.”

* * *

I had already suspected that the island was rather large. Doctor Roman had just confirmed that very fact. Yet, somehow, I couldn’t help but feel like I had underestimated just how big a location this would be.

“This place is huge,” Drake gushed excitedly, an adventurous glint in her blue eyes. A soft breeze began to blow across the grassy plain we were currently walking through. “This wind is amazing. Hard to imagine it’s an island.”

“Hey, Mash, do you think Roman would be willing to give us a day or two to use some of our vacation time to say here?” I teasingly asked the Demi-Servant. Still, I wasn’t lying about the desire to use this island as a vacation spot. Despite my earlier misgivings, the place was surprisingly tranquil so far. Even Mordred seemed to be enjoying herself somewhat, and she hated just walking about seemingly endlessly.

“Jacob Senpai, please focus,” Mash replied, once again missing the humor behind my words and taking them at face value. “I agree with Drake,” she said, turning around and therefore missing my slight eyeroll to look at Ritsuka. “Master, doesn’t this feel like the time we were in—”

“Rome?” Ritsuka supplied, and Mash nodded. “In a weird way, it does. A bit quieter, though.”

“All we need now is that blonde pipsqueak of yours to be strutting around and proclaiming her supposed greatness,” Mordred said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. While good-intentioned as one of Ritsuka’s Servants as she was when we first met her in the last singularity, Nero hadn’t lost some of her more aggravating habits.

Suddenly, Mash came to a halt, glancing down quickly at her commlink before turning around. “It looks like we’re almost at the coordinates Doctor Roman sent us,” Mash explained. Drake suddenly stiffened, eyes wide like saucers as she drew and cocked both of her pistols.

“What the living hell are those?!?” She demanded, gesturing up ahead. My eyes narrowed and I drew my own sword, adopting a ready position as a dozen skeletal, humanoid figures suddenly appeared. Next to me, Mordred’s helmet slammed into place as she summoned Clarent, while Mash positioned herself in front of her own Master protectively after summoning her own weapon.

“That…They appear to be skeletons. But something about them is slightly off” Mash said hesitantly, and I gritted my teeth at that. The pink-haired girl had made quite the understatement in my opinion!

They weren’t the normal run-of-the-mill type skeletons that we had encountered one time too many in Orléans and Fuyuki. For one thing, the bones were a blueish-grey color. They were also much bigger. If I had to guess, each one was around seven feet tall. They carried a mixture of weapons, all of which had the same color and appeared to have been shaped from bones as well. Two had bows, while the rest carried either large, cleaver-like swords or long, fang-like daggers.

The most bizarre and unnerving thing about them, though, had to be their ‘heads’. If I had to describe them in a single sentence, I would say that they looked like shark jaws. From what little I could tell, they even had shark-like teeth, which made the comparison all the more fitting.

Mash’s commlink went off, and the Demi-Servant turned it on. _“Dragon Tooth Warriors. Called_ spartoi _in the Greek myths. They are soldiers forged from dragon fangs. Take them out!”_ Doctor Roman hurriedly explained.

“I’ll have to ask Medea if she can create them,” Ritsuka muttered, suitably impressed with the enemy. I couldn’t deny my own interest. However, that wasn’t enough to make me hesitate in ordering their destruction. I turned around.

“Drake, can you focus on taking out those two archers at the back?” I asked, and Drake scoffed, smirking wildly.

“Piece of cake!”

“Mhm. Mordred, you and Mash will focus on the main group. Watch each other’s back and take them down as quickly as possible.”

“Understood, Jacob Senpai.”

“You got it!”

“Going to get involved as well?” Ritsuka asked me a bit dryly. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit sheepishly.

“If I must. You know me,” I replied, looking back ahead at the cluster of undead enemies. (Do they qualify as the undead?) Ritsuka hummed softly, but didn’t reply, readying his arm to fire off Gandr rounds if needed.

The skeletons still hadn’t moved. It almost looked like they were as surprised to encounter us as we were of them. Why, though? Yet another damn question whose answer I would never find. Finally, they shook off whatever it was that had kept them back, and the ones armed for melee charged forward.

The Dragon Tooth Warriors seemed to be slightly faster than the average skeletons I had encountered while working for Chaldea. No doubt a result of their unique method of creation. At least it looks like they could neither fly nor cast magical attacks. I closed my eyes and extended my free hand, imagining some of the moisture condensing into a small block of ice, about half the size and thickness of a brick.

I imagined throwing that brick of ice, and I opened my eyes in time to see the object tripping over one of the lead skeletons. Normally, the ones behind the fallen foe would likely end up tripping, but not these ones. The others either leapt over or sidestepped the fallen skeleton, who then proceed to push itself back up and resumed charging towards us.

Mordred sprinted forward, slamming her armored kneecap into the ribcage of a dual dagger-wielding skeleton, breaking the bones and the backbones. One of the skeletons with a cleaver-like sword swung the crude and oversized weapon at my partner.

The blonde knight blocked the blow with the flat of Clarent’s blade, before smashing in the face of her opponent with her free hand. A third skeleton tried to slash its daggers against her exposed back, but just as it prepared to jump into the air, Mash’s shield slammed into it, the force of the impact sending bones flying everywhere.

“Not bad, Shieldy!” Mordred called out, before slicing another skeleton in half. Interesting. So, these Dragon Tooth Warriors weren’t exactly a threat against Servants, at least in small numbers. However, against mages or civilians, I suspected that they would be deadly.

Thankfully, the battle was over within a minute or so after it started. Broken bones lied scattered all around us, and we waited for a moment to see if there was going to be any kind of reinforcements, but none appeared.

“The battle has ended, Master. Creating terminal point now,” Mash said in her business-like manner.

 _“Huh? Something just…”_ Roman started to say, sounding mystified while Mash paused briefly.

“What’s wrong?” She inquired.

“ _No, just my imagination. You can start setting up as usual.”_

I tuned out of the conversation, instead walking over to the scattered remains of the Dragon Tooth Warriors. I picked up half of a thigh bone and examined it idly. Now that the threat had had been dealt with, my earlier question came to mind.

Why were they here? The way they had been moving, it almost seemed like they were searching for someone or thing. Furthermore, where had they come from? Based off of Roman’s brief explanation, it seemed like these elite skeletons required someone to create them.

Roman had said that they were Greek in origin, hadn’t he? When we get back to the boat, I’ll ask Medea about this. Surely the greatest magecraft practitioner in all of Ancient Greece would be able to help. I pocketed a smaller fragment of bone and walked back over to rejoin the others, reaching them just in time to hear Doctor Roman speaking once more.

“ _Okay, we got the terminal set up. Also, I got a hit on that pirate flag from yesterday. That’s the flag of the legendary….ate…of the….In other words, those pirates are….called…”_

“Doctor? Doctor, the communications are acting up,” Mash tried, as Roman voice slowly turned into static. “Doctor?!?” Finally, Mash’s device gave off a low-pitch warble, and she closed the connection before turning towards us.

“We’ve lost contact,” Mash finally said with a troubled expression on her face. “What on earth could have…”

Suddenly, I felt something fly through my body. Not like an object had struck me, though. Rather, it felt like a solid mass of energy had pushed through me. The air was knocked out of my lungs, and my body instinctively tensed as a threatening sensation could be felt.

“Master?” Mordred asked in alarm, adopting her standard combat posture with Clarent in her hands once more. I swallowed heavily, my body shaking slightly. What in the nine hells was that?!? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Ritsuka was in a similar state of discomfort.

I turned to Mordred, intent on informing her about what I had just experienced, when suddenly the ground began to shake and shudder violently, threatening to throw me off-balance once again.

“Eek!” Mash shrieked in a high-pitched tone. I fell to my hands and knees, my fingers digging into the dirt as the ground continued to buck and shudder underneath us “An earthquake?!?”

“Apparently!” Mordred snarled, leaning against a Clarent thrust into the earth, using the cursed blade to maintain her balance as best the knight could. Drake pushed Ritsuka down further away.

“Get down, it’s a big one!”

Then, almost as quickly as it had come, the movement stopped. But in the air, something felt…off. I pushed myself back up onto my feet, shaking away the dirt from my fingers before noticing the dirt on my trousers, where my knees had pressed against the grass.

“Tch. Now I’m glad I’ve never been to San Francisco,” I muttered angrily, dusting off my trousers.

“At least it settled down,” Mash countered sternly, before looking at Ritsuka. “Senpai, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little shaken,” Ritsuka said. I clamped a hand over my face and let out a muffled groan at the unintended pun. Still, at least we were alright, it seems.

“Seems that way. Thank goodness. What about you, Drake?” Mash asked, but she didn’t get an immediate answer. When I removed my hand, I noticed a silent and pensive-looking Drake fidgeting. She was looking in the direction we had came from, where the _Golden Hind_ was anchored offshore.

“Worried about your crew?” I asked the pink-haired woman.

“Yes. That quake was a breeze compared to a night on a raging ocean, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried over those knuckleheads and my ship. Can we go back a for a bit?”

“Let’s do that,” Mash chimed in, though I wasn’t in a mindset to have disagreed in the first place. The fact that Jeanne hadn’t tried to contact us, or at least successfully, indicated that something as wrong. However, my Command Seals weren’t burning painfully, which I had been told was one of the key indicators of a Master’s Servant sustaining critical damage.

“I agree. Hopefully, we can reestablish contact with the doc by then, too. Let’s go,” I said, earning a chorus of agreements from Rits and Mordred.

Still, as we started to make our way back, I couldn’t help but feel that whatever it was that we had just experienced, it was only the beginning of something bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? Also, I realized I might have fucked up a bit. If memory serves me right, I had written Medea as having summoned some of her own Dragon Tooth Warriors during the cave fight against the seemingly-endless horde of skeletons. I had forgotten about this scene. I will be going back very soon and fixing that error, but for those who remember this, I still felt that I ought to own up to my mistakes. Once again, I apologize for that.
> 
> With that out of the way, sorry if last chapter's fight was subpar. As some of you noted, the fight wasn't quite as fun as normal, because of the overall one-sidedness of it. As you can see in this chapter, I'm trying to work on improving that. Obviously towards the end of both this singularity and in most of the others this won't be as much an issue, but still, live and learn.  
> Poor Mash. Someone needs to buy her a book on humor, you know? Also, who else would totally want to take a selfie with Mordred being adorable, even if you ran the risk of getting one hell of a bruising?
> 
> If anyone wants to join my Fate forum, here's the link: https://discord.gg/VWvZ6sgavF
> 
> Now, for the questions of the chapter! First up, who here has seen the Learning with Manga animation on YouTube? What did y'all think?  
> Second question: what do you guys like to do to cheer yourselfs up if your having a really bad day?  
> Finally: What do you think of a possible one-shot of Jacob teaching Jeanne to read and write?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and sticking with this story of mine! Still hard to believe just how far it's come since I posted it back in July, so I can't wait to see how it goes! Please leave your thoughts, comments, and answers down below, and I can't wait to read them! I hope you enjoyed chapter 58, and see you in the next chapter!


	59. Where You Check In, but You Don't Check Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company discover a dangerous trap of the island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! Not much to say other than I hope you enjoy and see you in the end notes!

We quickly returned to the beach, weapons drawn and ready to crack some skulls if anyone tried to impede us. While we were making our way back, Mash repeatedly tried to hail both Doctor Roman and Jeanne, alternating between the two, but with the same result for each attempt. Static.

“The summoning circle has been established, but communications are still cut off,” Mash said, her voice tinged with frustration. A very much mutual sentiment, too. “Once we get to the ship, we should move away from here, perhaps,” Mash suggested as we pushed through the final bits of foliage and returned to the beach.

To my immense relief, the ship was still there and in one piece. However, a second later, that relief was replaced with confusion. Why was Jeanne and some of the other Servants, as well as Bombe, on the beach? Why were the sails fully unfurled but yet the ship wasn’t moving?

Drake stormed over to Bombe. “What’s wrong? What’s up?” She demanded, looking a bit frantic for once. Bombe coughed awkwardly, the one-eyed pirate scratching the back of his head nervously, and Drake began frowning.

“Boss,” he started to say, gesturing helplessly towards the _Golden Hind_. “The ship won’t move.”

“Huh?” Drake responded, looking floored by the comment. Bombe was looking equally flummoxed.

“The ship, Boss! The ship won’t budge, not an inch!” Drake released something that I could only describe as being a mixture of a groan and sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a few seconds to exhale, before turning towards us.

“Sorry, but could you guys give me five minutes or so? I want to go over and see what the hell he’s talking about?” I nodded, walking over to a clearly relieved Jeanne.

“Oh, thank God. When we felt that earthquake, and then couldn’t raise you, we started to fear the worst!” The Ruler said. An unimpressed-looking Astolfo coughed slightly from behind.

“And by ‘we’, Ruler means ‘I’,” Astolfo added, and Jeanne’s cheeks burned a bright red. She spun around, her thick, braided ponytail flying through the air as she glared at the Rider. Marie giggled next to her friends, gently swatting Astolfo’s elbow.

“Now, now, Stolfo, we _were_ worried,” the Flower of Versailles said. Sensing a ‘but’ coming, and no doubt containing some sort of teasing, I loudly cleared my throat.

“Well, good news is that we are okay. We encountered a small group of skeletal foes called Dragon Tooth Warriors. They’re faster and slightly stronger than the typical skeletal warrior most of you have already dealt with in past singularities, but shouldn’t pose to much of a threat to you guys.”

“Unfortunately, we are not exactly in the position to make forward progress on solving this one right now,” Chiron said a bit dryly, as I saw Drake returning from the becalmed _Golden Hind_ in that rowboat of hers, along with a scowling Medea.

The two woman marched over, and Drake spat off to the side in the sand in disgust. Oh boy, she looked _pissed_.

“No good, it won’t move. On the bright side, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the _Golden Hind_ herself. Rather, she’s stuck like something’s anchoring it real tight. What on earth is happening?” Drake snarled, her eyes shining dangerously. Her ire wasn’t directed at us, at least. “Jacob, Ritsuka, this is you guy’s specialty, right?”

“Magecraft of some sort?” I suggested, remembering the sensation I had felt just before the earthquake. That wasn’t natural by any measures.

“A type of Bonded Field?” Ritsuka suggested, and my eyes widened. I hadn’t considered that possibility. Mash nodded though, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Yes, I also think that is correct, Senpai. It looks like a Bonded Field has been drawn all around. It looks like its rank is low enough for a Demi-Servant like me, or a full-fledged Servant, to escape, but I’m afraid I can’t say the same for the ship, Captain Drake.”

“Well, this is an unpleasant development,” I drawled, perhaps a bit unnecessary. Still, Mash gave another nod, as Drake gestured to the pink-haired girl to continue speaking.

“Quite so, Jacob Senpai. Unless we take down whoever is creating this field, I’m afraid we’ll be stuck here. Forever.”

“What are we going to do, then?”

“Search and destroy. There is no other means of escape.”

“Couldn’t Medea try to use her own knowledge of magic to try and take down the entire thing?” Ritsuka asked. I hummed, considering that possibility.

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask,” I finally said, nodding my head approvingly at my friend. “Nice catch there.” I turned to look at Medea. She hummed and lowered her head slightly, and I could feel a surge of magical energy coming off of her as she did whatever it was that she was doing.

Suddenly, the tingling sensation I was getting faded away, and Medea looked up. Her lips were angled downwards in a mixture of a scowl and a soft frown.

“From what I can tell, it’s a Bounded Field generated by a Noble Phantasm.” I groaned silently. Of course, why wouldn’t a Servant be responsible for this? I heard Ritsuka ask the witch if she could remove the barrier.

“If you wanted to wait for a few days, I could,” was her reply. “It is doable, but it would be an extremely delicate and time-consuming task.” Well, there went another potential easy solution. I exhaled softly.

“Then we’re assuming a search and destroy mission setting,” I finally said. “Sasaki, Jing Ke, stay here with the ship. I don’t want to risk someone destroying her while we are elsewhere.”

“Very well.”

“No problem.”

I grunted softly, before turning to the next Servant I wanted to talk to.

“Astolfo, can you summon your mount?” I asked the eccentric Rider. The paladin cocked his head slightly, before nodding with a look of understanding in his eyes before he closed them. I watched as he seemed to concentrate, before finally his hippogryph appeared.

It was honestly a bit ridiculous looking, truth be told, to see so large a beast perched on the top of a palm tree like some sort of mutant parrot. Still, that was a good sign, and I nodded, pleased. “Excellent. Would you be good with surveying the island from overhead?”

“Not a problem, Master!” Astolfo chirped energetically. Ritsuka tapped my shoulder.

“What about us, Jacob?” My fellow Master inquired, gesturing at Mordred, Mash, Drake, and himself. I pointed at the source of my unease about this island.

“We’ll make our way to that mountain over there. Medea, do you mind accompanying us?” I asked, truing to the robed Caster.

“Very well.”

“Good. If anyone finds something, mainly Servants or mages, send up some sort of signal. Otherwise, we will meet up at the base of the mountain. Are we all in agreement?”

“Sure.”

“Screw it, why not?”

“Not like we have much of a better plan or anything.”

“Then it’s decided. Those who will be going on foot, pair up with one another. Stay safe, watch each other’s backs, and I’ll see you all by the mountain in a few hours or so.” As our Servants began spreading out, I waited patiently as Drake turned back to Bombe.

“Bombe, you and the others stand your ground. I’m going with Ritsuka and Mash. Behave and stay put. The real fight’s gonna be inland. Don’t be wasting stuff!”

“Aye, aye, Boss!”

* * *

“This island keeps on getting weirder and weirder,” Mordred said as I opened the door to the wood and clay house we had come across. We were almost at the base of the mountain, and a sense of dread had been building in my stomach with each step we had taken closer to it.

As we had slowly made our way closer and closer to the center of the island, the more mysterious it became. For example, our present location.

We were inside what appeared to be a small and uninhabited village. The dwellings all appeared to be in good order when we first came across it, and there was no sign of violence or any other kind of upheaval that could have left it abandoned.

Many of the surfaces and items inside the buildings had a light layer of dust coating them. Judging by how light it was, I suspected that they hadn’t been here for too long. Possibly another result of the traitor’s Grail which we were searching for?

“Agreed,” I said, replying to my partner’s remark. I was thankful she was nearby. Her presence was helping to keep me calm and focused, despite the building senses of danger and uneasy slipping into my body. “Well, this is another bust. Let’s see if the others have had any success,” I said with a frustrated sigh, and the two of us walked outside to see that Ritsuka, Mash, and Drake had finished their own buildings.

“Nothing?” A weary-looking Ritsuka said with a heavy sigh. I nodded sadly.

“Just like the others.”

“This is rather dull,” Drake said irritably, scowling up a storm and with her hands resting angrily on her hips. “That fortress earlier was completely empty, too.” And yet another damn mystery right there!

“To begin with, it’s mysterious that artificial structures are on the island,” Mash observed. I bit back my response. The Demi-Servant, along with the rest of us, were trying our best to solve this latest problem of ours. If anyone deserved to be the subject of my building ire, it was the one responsible for putting up that damn barrier!

“Well, we’re almost at the base of the mountain. Let’s start looking. Call out if you see anything unusual. Considering how things have been turning out so far on this godforsaken piece of land, it shouldn’t take too long,” I said, some of the irritation finally spilling out.

Luckily, no one took offense to it for any reason.

There were still a few more houses to search. Even though my gut instinct was telling me that we wouldn’t have any more success with those ones as we had with the others, but if there was even a one percent chance of there being something, we couldn’t afford to leave a stone unturned.

As I began searching the dwelling I had picked out, my mind slowly wondered to the things bothering me about this island. The Dragon Tooth Warriors. The mountain. All these buildings that appeared to have never been inhabited. It all didn’t add up to anything.

Of course, what was bothering me the most was the still-unknown creator of the bounded field trapping us here.

Medea had said that it was the work of another Servant. Who, though, was the question needing answered. I was fairly confidant that Ritsuka’s Caster would have told us if she had recognized the one who casted it. Without our normal link with Chaldea, we couldn’t ask either Da Vinci or Doctor Roman to see if they could find something.

Damn, I’m really starting to hate these kinds of mysteries!

Suddenly, Drake’s voice rang throughout the town.

“Hey guys! Come over here, I found something!”

“Heh, looks like you called it, idiot,” Mordred said playfully, using the apparent pet name she had given me for when we were alone. I merely smirked at her as we all hurried over in the direction that Drake’s voice had come from.

It was about fifty feet from the outskirts of the village we had been investigating when we saw a Drake idly twirling one of her pistol as she stood in front of the mass of rock that made up the central island dominating the landscape. “Over here,” Drake said, gesturing with her weapon.

Huh?” Mash hummed suddenly, staring at the space indicated by Drake at the base of the mountain. “Is that a hole there?”

“A tad bit bigger than just a whole, wouldn’t you say?” I said a bit dryly. Far more ornate, too. “It looks like an entrance.

“Gah, underground again?” Mordred groaned, and I couldn’t help but smirk softly. I had a similar feeling of displeasure at that. After all, our track record in regards to caves wasn’t exactly a shining example of success. Maybe it was just the past memories, but something about the entrance we had apparently discovered filled me with dread.

“Let’s take a look,” Ritsuka suggested, taking a few steps towards the aperture in the rock. I reached out and gently but firmly grasped the back of his collar, preventing him from actually going in.

“We’re sending a signal up first. I’m not going to go down there until at least some of the other Servants know were we are. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to have Lu Bu nearby if there is a cave-in or something,” I stated grimly. Ritsuka’s cheeks flushed slightly as I released my grip.

“Ahahaha….yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” my friend said sheepishly, before pointing his hand skywards and firing a single shot of Gandr. Despite Medea’s best efforts, my Gandr was at best subpar, while Ritsuka’s was stronger. Therefore, it was he who typically used the curse to draw the attention of nearby allies.

The signal sent, we wait for about fifteen minutes before Astolfo arrived, dismounting from his mythical mount skillfully and waiting for the others. It took another twenty or so minutes, but finally everyone was assembled.

Amadeus flinched. “I hope you’re not expecting me to go down there.” I grunted, sharing the Caster’s concern over being in such an enclosed area with his sensitive ears. Marie nudged with a slight frown on her face when I cleared my throat.

“Actually, I was going to send a small party, consisting of Drake, Ritsuka, Mash, Mordred, Medea, and I. I would like for the rest of you to guard the entrance. As I told Rits a bit ago, I don’t want to be trapped down there if there’s a cave in or something.” Jeanne gently struck her flagpole into the ground, and I nodded at her.

“Master, I wish to protest this decision. This is dangerous—”

“No more than normal, Jeanne. Besides, I said that I would like for you guys to stay out here. That doesn’t mean that either Ritsuka or I won’t be willing to utilize our Command Seals to have you back us up.” Jeanne relaxed only slightly at those words, chewing on her lower lip with frustration, before finally nodding.

“Viceroy, Praetor, be safe,” Nero said in a rather subdued tone, as unhappy as the rest of our companions. Still, the choice was made.

“Excellent. See you guys soon,” I said, taking a deep breath and facing the uninviting hole in the mountain’s side. No point in delaying it, as I squeezed myself into the gap.

* * *

We must have gone no more than fifty feet or so before the darkness gave way to light once more. It wasn’t sunlight, however. Nor was it a cave or cavern that we had entered, either.

“This is…” Mash tried to say in an awe-struck tone. I didn’t know for sure what the Demi-Servant was thinking about what was before us, but I could certainly think of a few myself. Words like impossible.

We stared down a torch-light hallway made out of what appeared to be granite bricks. I couldn’t tell if they were cemented in place, but I highly doubt that they could be smashed through. The occasional columns along either side was trimmed with what appeared to be gold at the tops, with intricate shapes imprinted on the malleable metal. Even more noticeable than the ornate columns, however, was the uncanny uniformity the hallway took. Even each brick was the same color.

The hall appeared to stretch on for quite a distance, before suddenly veering off to the side sharply at a ninety-degree angle.

“Is this what you call a dungeon?” Drake said softly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet excitedly. As always, an adventurous glint had appeared in her bright blue eyes. ‘”Oh boy, the pirate blood in me is heating up!” She started to walk down the hallway.

“Wait!” Mash called out, looking nervous. “We have no idea what the scope of this place is. I suggest we retreat at once and—”

“The way I see it, retreating’s not gonna change a damn thing. We can only go forward, full speed ahead. That’s what it means to stay on _my_ ship,” Drake said sternly, and Mash seemed to wilt slightly. Then Drake smiled again, swapping back into her more devil-may-cry attitude. “Leave behind that goodie-goodie old self, Mash!” Drake said loudly, sauntering over and wrapping an arm around a startled Mash, pulling the Demi-Servant off-balance while the pink-haired pirate gestured ahead theatrically.

“Now, onwards! Treasure awaits!” She finished, releasing Mash and walking forward at a brisk pace. Ritsuka looked at me, apparently deferring to my judgement once again. I breathed in deeply before exhaling, shrugging while I did so.

“Drake’s got a point. Whoever put up that Bounded Field’s down here, and without being able to contact the doc, we don’t have the equipment to get a rough idea of what this place looks like. So, forward it is,” I said.

“Just as long as we get things done,” Mordred grunted in agreement. Mash nodded, but with a heavy sigh of her own.

“Very well. I do think, however, that we’re rushing it a bit too much,” she said reluctantly. I reached over towards her and grasped her shoulder sympathetically, before turning around to see Drake almost at the end of the hallway.

“Noted. Now, come on! I don’t want to be left behind in here!”

The pirate captain having taken note of our movement, waved energetically before rounding the corner. A few minutes later, a high-pitched yelp came from the direction she had gone.

“G-Guys, what the hell is that?” Drake gasped, the normally unshakeable and gusty pirate sounding the complete opposite. I hurried over, the others close on my heels, before I skidded to a stop, feeling the blood drain from my face as I saw what it was that had shaken Francis Drake.

A horrific, life-like mural had been painted over the wall. It was a massive humanoid, apparently male, standing over a pile of butchered human bodies. The ground was soaked in red paint. His arms were outstretched, angled downwards. The wrists had shackles with chains trailing down, and in each hand was clutched a long, broad-headed axe. The most eye-catching thing of the grotesque-looking artwork was the head of the depicted…thing.

A bull’s head, with long, curved white horns, the tips of each stained with what appeared to be representing blood. Bright red eyes depicted so that it seemed to have fire in them glared down at us. All around the figure was some sort of archaic-looking language. Next to me, Ritsuka let out a shake, audible breath, before turning towards the silent Caster of our little party.

“Medea, you’re the one with the most experience with Mysterious and all,” he started, and the Caster gave off a small, smug smirk at that as he continued speaking. “Do you think you can tell us what those words are?”

“I can try,” she replied smoothly, stepping forward nonchalantly as we all moved to the side to give the Greek Servant room.

Medea crouched down gracefully, before reluctantly lowering her cowl, revealing her elf-like ears and purple hair. Her eyes squinted before she raised a hand and generated a small fire dancing above her palm.

“I recognize this writing. It’s Cretan.”

“Cretan?” Rits asked quietly, and the Witch of Betrayal nodded solemnly.

“From the Isle of Crete. They used to be quite the feared power in my time. Why, that King Minos had that monstrous child of his to feed…”

I felt my heart stop at those words, as the pieces finally clicked into place.

“This isn’t a cave,” I said softly, staring at the engraving. A monstrous creature with a horrific bloodlust, and one that had the head of a bull…a subterranean maze…Crete….I turned to my companions, wide-eyed and alert.

“This is the labyrinth, the home of the Minotaur!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? Sorry if it was a little choppy, but the game didn't give me as much as I was hoping for that I felt I could work with. I hope you still enjoyed it? Also, aw, Jeanne being such a caring sweetheart! The next two chapters are going to be fun, though, in my opinion, so don't worry!
> 
> Not much else really to say, so on tot he questions of the chapter! First up: Are you guys and gals enjoying this year's Valentine's Day event? I already got the CEs for the 38 female Servants I currently own and having voiced lines was wonderful! A follow-up to that is who are the ones you either enjoyed the most or are looking forward to hearing?
> 
> Second question: Overall, how was y'alls first month of 2021? Mine was surprisingly hellish, unfortunatley.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. I can't wait to hear back from y'all on your thoughts and what not, and I hoped you enjoyed yet another chapter of the Will to Fight! Stay safe and healthy, have a great day, and see y'all in the next chapter!


	60. The Labyrinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company venture into the mythical Labyrinth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! Hope you enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

Day “This is the labyrinth, the home of the Minotaur!”

No sooner had those words escaped my mouth than I heard a noise unlike that which I had ever heard before. It was hard to find the words to accurately describe it, but if I had to do so, I would say that it sounded like an unholy mixture of an angry bull with the bloodthirsty howl of a human. It was bloodcurdling, reverberating unnaturally so off the stone walls.

Mordred’s helmet slamming into place, her armor clinking softly as she adopted one of her combat poses. With one hand, she gently pushed me behind her and against the closest wall protectively. Mash did something similar with a fearful-looking Rits, while Drake unholstered one of her pistols. Medea was the only one unphased, however.

“Relax,” she said with humorless cheer to the rest of us. She stood back up, swiftly pulling that hood of her back over her head before dusting off her knees. “If he was nearby, we would be able to smell him, no doubt. I highly doubt that King Midas was caring enough to ensure that his son would be able to clean himself properly, to be frank.”

Sheesh, talk about yet another example of shitty parenting. Still, considering that Midas could have tried to kill the Minotaur when it was newly born but didn’t, that still made him better than Morgan le Fay…

But just barely.

“Yeah. Besides, wasn’t the monster taken down by some wimpy human?” Mordred chimed in dismissively, untensing slightly now that the Knight of Rebellion felt that there was no immediate threat nearby. “I’m not exactly much of a reader of Greek myths, but I’m pretty sure it was something along those lines.”

Medea’s lips pursed slightly. “Theseus, yes,” she said, and I sensed a hint of distaste in the Caster’s words. If memory served me right, in some versions of the tale, Medea had married Theseus’s father, had a child, and tried to kill the vanquisher of the Minotaur before his father could recognize him, or something like that.

Wisely, I kept that little tidbit of information quiet. I highly doubt that Medea would appreciate me airing her dirty laundry so to speak, and I didn’t have the dubious protection of being her Master, too. By all accounts, it seems that she could be quite a vengeful woman. How much of that was true, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t exactly in all that much of a hurry to find out in a first-hand experience.

“What should we do if we run into him?” Ritsuka asked. It wasn’t a question asked in cowardice, but rather one unsure of what to do. In all honesty, we had two choices: Run or fight.

“We fight. Like Mordred mentioned, the Minotaur was defeated once. We can do it again. We just have to stick together and keep our guard up at all times.” The others nodded or grunted in agreement, while I took one last look at the mural.

“Bah, let’s get back on track,” Drake said, having regained her confidence. I wanted to ask Mordred to destroy the grisly mural, but I didn’t want to risk damaging a possible load-bearing wall. I nodded, and we progressed farther into the Labyrinth.

* * *

Ritsuka’s feet were starting to feel a bit sore, but he kept a tight lid on the urge to complain about the discomfort it was causing him. They were on a mission now. There were a few more intersections that veered sharply either to the right or left, but eventually, they reached the first split in the road, so to speak. The hallway was at a T-shaped section. One hallway to the right, the other to the left.

They all paused for a minute. In front of Ritsuka and the others, Drake rubbed her chin thoughtfully, her head swiveling back and forth to the left and right and back again. “Right or left….Right or left,” she muttered, before finally snapping her fingers and pointing at the left hallway. “My gut says left!” The final decision having apparently been made, Drake began to head down the chosen passageway. Jacob, Mordred, and Medea followed after her a few seconds later, as did Chaldea’s other Master and his kouhai.

Ritsuka turned to Mash, unable to hide the unease in his voice. “Remember where the entrance is?” He quietly asked Mash. His friend gave him a reassuring smile as she nodded.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ve recorded everything just in case. Not that I’d ever forget,” the Demi-Servant said with that quiet confidence of hers. Ritsuka quirked an eyebrow instinctively. It wasn’t so much that he was doubting the value of her words, so much as he knew that the memory could prove incorrect at times. Mash gestured down the hallway they had just left.

“It’s just a matter of going back the way we came, Senpai. Getting separated along the way would be a bigger issue for us, however.” Mash paused, and Ritsuka waited patiently before her eyes widened and she perked up. “Oh, I know. Master, let’s hold hands.” Ritsuka choked slightly at that.

“Huh?!?”

“It’d be a disaster if we got separated here. Holding hands would prevent that from happening,” Mash explained with a patient smile on her lips. Ritsuka’s cheeks grew warm, as an awkward sensation roiled in his stomach.

“Ah, Mash, wouldn’t that be a bit embarrassing?” Ritsuka tried, unsure of what the hell to do. Mash shuffled slightly, looking quite bashful to Ritsuka.

“Ummm, I understand how you feel, but this is no time to be embarrassed, Master. If we get separated, we might be wandering around in this maze until we die, be it from starvation, hunger, thirst, or something else. It may be a bit awkward, at least at first, but better safe than sorry,” Mash said, sounding as nervous as he felt, before slowly extending her free hand. Despite himself, Ritsuka gave her a warm, albeit weak, smile.

“Are you embarrassed too, Mash?” The girl’s cheeks reddened as Ritsuka grasped the offered hand softly.

“N-No comment,” Mash said shyly. They continued to walk with the rest of the group, but now with their hands clasping one another. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, until Mash nudged him gently with her forearm. Ritsuka looked at her, seeing that her blush had finally faded, as his own blush had, and been replaced with a nostalgic smile on her lips.

“This reminds me, back then, when we first met…You held my hand like this, too.” Ritsuka nodded, as the image of his friend bleeding out as she was pinned under a massive piece of rubble, while he and Jacob struggled to get the debris off her. “Now, it feels nostalgic. Even though that is has only been a month and a half since then.

“Yeah. We’ve made quite a number of memories together, haven’t we?” Ritsuka remarked with a lopsided smile. Mash nodded.

“Yes, we have. Thank you for being able to share them with me, Senpai.”

“Your welcome, Mash. The same sentiment applies to you, too.”

A pleasant atmosphere finally managed to overpower the one of dread that the labyrinth gave. Unfortunately, a soft chuckle had Ritsuka remembering that he wasn’t the only one listening to Mash and vice versa.

“Aw, the two of you look adorable like that,” Jacob said with a warm smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. Next to him, Mordred snickered, her green eyes glinting impishly in the torchlight.

“Yeah, they look like they would be a nice couple,” the Saber added with a toothy smirk. Ritsuka’s cheeks exploded into heat as his eyes widened at the thought. Not that he found it repulsive or something along those lines, but because he was thinking of it actually happening, and found himself quite liking the image. Now that the couple in front of him had suggested it, it really did feel like that. That he and Mash were…that they were…

Mash’s fingers tightened around his, breaking him free of his thoughts as he saw a similar look of embarrassment on the features of his ever reliable kouhai. He gave what he hoped came across as a brief, comforting squeeze of his own, and Mash seemed to relax slightly once more.

“Just relax, Rits,” Jacob said, an apologetic look softening the mischievous one now. “It’s just an attempt to lighten the mood down here, you know? Don’t think too much into it, unless you want to...” Jacob added with what seemed to have been a knowing smirk. Ritsuka opened his mouth to reply, before Drake cleared her throat loudly, and everyone came to a stop.

“If you all are done flirting with one another,” Drake started to say a bit dryly, “There’s an enemy up ahead!”

* * *

Seeing as how it was only two skeletons, calling the encounter a fight would imply that the skeletal warriors had a chance of lashing out. Mordred grabbed one with her gauntlet and slammed it into the wall, while Medea muttered something in her native tongue before a block of ice appeared above the second skeleton.

Moving her hand downwards, the Witch of Betrayal brought the block down, smashing the apparently stunned enemy into the ground even as the ice itself broke apart. With another word and a small wave of her hand, Medea dismissed the ice.

Both enemies dealt with, we quickly and silently resumed walking, though our pace was a bit faster now. While it wasn’t the Minotaur or a Servant, the encounter carried another meaning with it. There were undoubtedly a few more Dragon Tooth Warriors still down here. We resumed walking, though this time kept quiet, each of us on high alert, waiting to detect the slightest hint of something, _anything_ , being out of place as we continued traversing the labyrinth.

It must have been forty-five minutes, maybe even more, before a member of our party spoke again.

“Hmmm? Hang on a moment” Drake said suddenly, pausing before quietly reloading her pistols. I partially unsheathed my _pugio_ silently, the broad, leaf-shaped blade reflecting the torchlight. While she was reloading, it sounded like she was sniffing the air. ”I smell something,” Drake said when she had finished, a grim look on her face.

“What is it?” Mash asked, while Mordred grunted in annoyance.

“Yeah, don’t keep us waiting,” the Saber said impatiently. With Clarent still summoned, she began to tap the flat of the massive blade against her right pauldron, one of her tics that showed when she wanted to get a move on or something like that. I reached out to gently nudge her when Drake gave us her reply.

“Blood.” I stiffened slightly at Drake’s answer, and I sniffed the air in turn. My nose soon wrinkled up slightly as my upper lip curled back in distaste as a familiar and hated odor filled my nostrils.

Sure enough, I could detect the faintest hints of a metallic smell that I had encountered one time too many in the short period that I had been working at Chaldea. “With my job, I’m used to smelling stuff like this,” Drake said evenly.

“I smell it, too,” I said softly, my eyes darting down to the floor. The walls clearly didn’t have blood dripping down them like in the castle at Orleans, thank god for that, but the scent seemed to be close by. So where was… there!

“I think I found the source,” I said, emotionlessly, pointing at the small puddle of blood only a few yards in front of us. It was a tiny thing, almost unnoticeable if one didn’t smell the scent of it.

“Look, the drops form a trail,” Mash observed. Sure enough, that was the case. By all signs that we could see, whoever had been bleeding had gone down the path we were headed. Considering the number of the Dragon Tooth Warriors we had dealt with earlier in the labyrinth, perhaps the one who had established the Bounded Field had an encounter with their own, and been injured?

“Looks like the wound wasn’t that bad. A flesh wound,” Drake mused, having reached the same conclusion about the small amount of the blood we could see.

“It’s our only clue. We should follow it!” Mash said, rather urgently. Needing no further urging, we did exactly that, resuming a brisk and steady pace as we followed the fine trail of crimson splattered before us.

The trail seemed to indicate that the individual whose blood we were tracking had been walking at a surprisingly calm rate. If that was so, then that means that whoever was injured wasn’t in any actual peril. Still, that didn’t answer who or what was responsible.

As we progressed further, it seemed like the light was starting to get slightly dimmer. We must be approaching the center. Though it had remained silent, I couldn’t help but feel like we were going to encounter the maze’s most infamous occupant before the day’s end.

Suddenly, Drake, still in the lead, held up a hand, indicating for the rest of us to stop.

“The blood trail stops here,” Drake reported as we came to a halt behind her. She sounded quite disappointed, a feeling I could very much relate to at the moment. “I guess we’ll have to give up on tracking it further, huh?”

“Worry about that later,” I growled as a half dozen of those damned Dragon Tooth Warriors charged towards us. “Let’s make this quick!”

And quick work of them, we did. Two fell to Drake’s pistols, while Mash, Medea, and Mordred easily took down the remaining four. In such small numbers, they proved to be only slightly more annoying than their weaker cousins that I had fought so many times before.

Of course, I wasn’t that much of in a hurry to test my own sword skills against one.

“Well, fighting these non-humans, like those bone warriors just now, means that I now got some more great tales to tell,” Drake said with her usual cheer, absent-mindedly kicking a small bile of battered and broken bones nearby with the toe of her boot. “Anyways, even these things die when you shoot a lead ball through them. I learned something new today!”

“I think that is more to due with you having a Grail that is lending you power. So please don’t get cocky,” I mentioned cautiously. Drake scoffed but nodded, the serious look in her eyes telling me that she would keep my piece of advice in mind in any future fights.

Nothing further needing to be said, we resumed once more our progression, though not for long.

“Hmmm,” Drake said, slowing down. We cam to a halt behind her. “It’s not like we’ve gotten lost down here, thankfully, but I’m still getting all kinds of bad vibes. New bad vibes, to be exact,” Drake tacked on hastily upon seeing my arched eyebrow.

That’s better. I’d have been extremely concerned over her state of mind if she was just now feeling the ‘bad vibes’ this maze from hell was giving off.

“Yeah. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up as well.”

“What do you think, Senpai?” Mash quietly asked Ritsuka. My fellow Master gave off a weak laugh, the forced nature of the act quite transparent.

“I sense an encounter,” he said. Mash nodded solemnly.

“I see. Then, in that case, we should—”

“Wait, what’s that noise up ahead?” Drake cut in. We fell silent, straining our ears. At first, I heard nothing. Then, I heard it.

The sounds of chains rustling, along with heavy breathing, had us all looking ahead. Mordred and Mash pushed their way in front of Ritsuka and I. My partner crouched down slightly, angling Clarent so that the massive broadsword was pointing forwards. Mash braced herself against her shield, in case whoever or whatever was approaching tried to launch some sort of ranged attack. Next to us, Medea summoned her staff while Drake cocked both of her pistols once again.

The sounds grew louder and louder. I could swear that I felt the ground starting to shake slightly. Then, a tall, board-chested and muscular figure appeared before us.

“Seems like my hunch was right,” Drake said grimly, while Mash gasped slightly in horror.

“This is…a Servant!”

A metal mask in the effigy of a bull’s head covered the figure’s face. Out of the mass of snow-white hair that dangled from his head, two black horns pointed skywards. An aura of dread and menace permeated the very air between us and the creature before us now.

His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. A faint, reddish glow seeped out of the eye slits of the mask, as a loud yet muffled growling noise escaped from his throat.

There was no mistaking the identity of the one in front of us. Even if the face was covered, the mask alone indicated the apparent facial structure that lay underneath. Half man, half beast.

The Minotaur had found us.

And he was not in a friendly mood.

“….Die,” he said in a raspy voice, as if unused to speaking words.

“T-That’s the Minotaur?” Drake gasped, taking a half-step backwards. “He’s huge!”

“No…Minotaur…Me…Asterios,” the Minotaur growled, jabbing a thumb towards his bare chest. He then pointed one of his axes towards us. “Kill…You…All!” Each word sounded labored, like with Caligula or Eric Bloodaxe. Based on the size, weapons, speaking patterns, and the mythological background he held, it wasn’t hard to guess his potential Servant class.

“Another Berserker, like Eric the Bloodaxe King! Guess there’s no use arguing!” Mash shouted.

“Nor is retreating an option,” Medea added. “This _is_ his territory after all.”

“Since when did we ever turn tail and run, though?” Mordred shot back, her helmet once more obscuring her face. “Orders, Master!” I gritted my teeth as my fingers dug into my palms. The terrain wasn’t ideal, but like Medea and Mash had said, there was no point in trying to deny our only recourse. There were only two orders I could think of, and I shouted them both as the Minotaur, or Asterios as he called himself, readied himself for a charge.

“Bring him down, and don’t die!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Y'all know what this means....Servant fight next chapter! Since this one is more balanced, that should mean that it will be more enjoyable! Anyways, what did you guys think of this chapter? Did you enjoy the Ritsuka-Mash moment? Also, damn it, is Marie now finally getting to Mordred, who's infecting Jacob too???
> 
> Also, on a personal note, the past few days have been getting better, so I am tentatively hoping for a better February compared to January (Which, good grief, did that feel like a year!) Fingers crossed!
> 
> Anyways, not much else to say, so the question(s) of the chapter! First up: Would you rather explore the labyrinth (Minotaur not included), or sail through a storm?  
> Second question: Who's ready to see a (hopefully somewhat toned-down) Blackbeard soon?
> 
> As always, thank you guys and gals for all the love and support, and thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave your thoughts and all, and I'm looking forward to reading and seeing them! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a wonderful rest of the weekend! See y'all in the next chapter!


	61. The Minotaur, the Maiden, and the Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred faces off against the fearsome Minotaur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! This is a long one, so strap in and enjoy yourselves! See you in the end notes!

Mordred bit back a curse as she slammed into a column. Her armor thankfully took the brunt of the impact and damage as she smashed through it, but the blonde Knight of Rebellion still felt a sharp pain in her side. If she had to guess, the rampaging Berserker had managed to break at least one rib, maybe a couple, just now.

A pain in the ass, but nothing close to being able to put her out of action!

Partially embedded in the wall from the impact, Mordred cursed loudly as she saw one of the Berserker’s axes swinging towards her. She propelled herself out of the wall, landing with almost feline grace on the one opposite of her, before pushing off of that one as well as the other axe lashed out towards her.

Unfortunately, at the last moment, the blade of the weapon caught her sabaton, and threw her off of her trajectory. Mordred skidded across the floor, and dug the fingers of her free hand into the bricks, bringing her to a halt halfway between where she was originally and the others.

Mash stood protectively in front of Ritsuka and Jacob, ready to throw herself between the two Masters and the Minotaur should he somehow manage to defeat Mordred. Drake and Medea stood to either side of the Demi-Servant, taking potshots whenever they could. By this point, the maddened Berserker was covered with minor injuries, but he kept on fighting.

An opponent worthy of her time, indeed!

Still, the current battlefield was the kind she didn’t enjoy. There was relatively little room to move around, thus somewhat limiting her range of attacks that she typically used. Also, the long blade of Clarent furthered proved to be a hindrance this time around. There was barely enough room for her to swing, unless Mordred wanted to risk catching the blade of her weapon on one of the columns and leaving her open for a cheap attack.

Yeah, this battle was nothing like the last time they’d gone up against a Berserker, but that was fine. She was Mordred, the Knight of Rebellion. She loved a challenging fight.

She pushed herself back up and held Clarent like a lance, aimed for the charging Minotaur. With a mighty roar of her own, Mordred launched herself forward, seeking to skewer the oncoming enemy Servant with her blade.

When she felt Clarent meeting resistance, it was to the shafts of the Servant’s axes. At the last moment, he had somehow managed to come to a complete stop and formed a rough _X_ with the weapons. Mordred’s eyes widened slightly under Secret of Pedigree as he swung his horned head downwards, trying to headbutt her while her lover called out in alarm.

Two spikes of ice slammed into the tip of his shoulder, sending him off balanced thanks to the attacks by both Jacob and Medea. Thankfully, the latter was keeping her Master from trying to charge in or something, though he seemed to be rather composed like normal.

That was a relief. The last thing she wanted was for Jacob to start acting like she was a fragile piece of china. She was a Servant, damn it!

She caught the downward swings of both axes with the flat of Clarent’s blade. Her left hand gripped the edge of the blade as she channeled prana everywhere. The Minotaur tried to use his larger mass to force Mordred towards the ground, intent on eventually breaking through her guard and smashing her.

Like hell she’d let that happen.

She lashed out with an armored boot, slamming it as hard as she could into the extended right knee of the Berserker. A choked holler of pain escaped from under that mask of his, and using his momentary distraction, Mordred leapt backwards.

No longer meeting any form of resistance, both of his axes slammed into the ground where she had just been standing, smashing the stone bricks making up the floor to pieces. The Berserker charged forward again, swinging his axes in rapid succession. The years he had spent in life wandering the labyrinth had clearly taught him how to fight at his best was clearly shown, as he was able to use the two polearms despite the seemingly-impossible space had to work with.

One of the axe blades skidded off of her left pauldron, and she ignored the shower of sparks resulting from metal moving against metal. Her armor was one of the few things she could thank her mother for, though she’d sooner die than admit it.

In life, only King Arthur had managed to pierce through it. As a Servant, it was even harder unless one used a Noble Phantasm. Still, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t suffer injuries without the armor being penetrated.

Unable to swing Clarent, Mordred slammed her left hand as hard as she could into the Berserker’s gut, activating her Mana Burst ability to add further force behind it. The raised, spikey sections of her gauntlet protecting her hand tore through the skin of the area, causing a minor injury. Her opponent snarled angrily, before knocking Mordred back with a kick that was just strong enough to knock the air out of her for a moment.

The Berserker roared once more as he stumbled backwards a few steps as two more cracks of thunder echoed in the stony halls, and then two meaty _thunks_ as Drake hit the monstrosity of a Servant with two more bullets. Both were in the right shoulder, and Mordred’s opponent used one hand to clutch at the bleeding shoulder.

Underneath Secret of Pedigree, Mordred’s eyes narrowed. This was it, a chance to land a (hopefully) decisive blow. It was now or never. Mordred shot forward, managing to lift Clarent into the air without scraping it against the ceiling somehow.

As she began her downward trajectory, the Minotaur noticed her, and tried to ready his axes to block her attack once more. However, the distance was now too close for him to do so in time. Mordred smirked ferally under Secret of Pedigree.

“I have you now!” She roared as she swung Clarent downwards. The tip of her sword threw up a slight shower of sparks for the brief moment that it scraped across the stone ceiling, but Mordred continued swinging the sword downwards.

With a horrid tearing sound, Clarent sliced through the metal mask like a knife through hot butter. More sparks shot out, and Mordred’s weapon continued to move downwards.

Making contact one more with the body of the Berserker just below the throat, she carved open a huge gash down his chest, and her armor was sprayed with some blood. When it hit his armored belt-piece, Mordred leapt backwards, avoiding a clumsy punch from her opponent. One of his axes dropped to the floor as he pressed a now-empty hand over his maskless face. Mordred readied Clarent for another thrusting attack, but it seemed that a lull of sorts had come.

The Minotaur roared in pain, and the bleeding Berserker stumbled backwards a yard or two, before lifting his head and removing the hand that had been covering it, finally revealing the face that had been hidden by his now-ruined mask…

* * *

I inhaled sharply as I saw the face of the Minotaur for the first time. No, not the Minotaur. Asterios. It was the face of a normal person, lightly glowing red eyes aside. Two small, circular earrings made of gold danged from each of his ear lobes. His thick mane of white hair was stained in places with blood, while all over his body, blood trickled down, forming a fairly decent-sized crimson puddle at his feet.

“How…” I said softly, starting to feel a smidge of respect for the grievously-injured enemy Servant. I had been watching the fight with a growing sense of concern every time Mordred was struck or otherwise injured. I wondered if the fact that we were dating was now heightening the feelings of unease and a desire to help now. It was extremely difficult to force myself to not try to join the battle and fight by the blonde knight’s side.

“No way…” Mash said, almost whimpering. “Surely those wounds should have been fatal…” Truly, the endurance of a Servant was no laughing matter. Enemy or not, I couldn’t help but feel respect towards Asterios’s stubbornness.

“Ugh….gif,” Asterios panted, blood running down his body. He slammed one axe down, shattering a portion of the floor in the process, and leaned against his weapon. Still, weakened though he now was, he continued to stare at us with anger and hatred in his eyes.

“You’re still alive after eating all those bullets?” Now it was Drake’s turn to give air to her incredulity. “Talk about gluttony!”

“You have guts, alright. I like that,” Mordred growled. “But it looks like we’ll be finishing this up in round two.”

“Pro…tect!” Asterios groaned, and I couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at that. Protect? Protect what? His home? Treasure, as Drake would say? Or could it be someone? Drake clicked her tongue at the Berserker’s response.

“Then it’s time to bring out the culverin cannons! If we blow his head off, he’s sure to go down!” Thankfully, Drake didn’t somehow manage to pull a cannon out of thin air, but she did raise her pistols and aimed both of them squarely at Asterios’s head. Mordred readied Clarent for her own attack.

“WAIT!” A high-pitched, feminine voice ladened with authority prevented either the pirate or my partner from finishing off the badly-injured Berserker. Behind the Servant in question was a small girl with purple hair. She was dressed in a white dress with black trimming, and had pale purple eyes.

The newcomer looks extremely familiar, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why. Then it hit me. I couldn’t help but groan. “What’s up with the whole small, purple-haired girls and death caverns,” I bemoaned under my breath. Aside from a few differences, she looked almost identical to the gorgon, Stheno! Apparently, the Stheno-lookalike heard my grumbling, for she gave me a strange look before rolling her eyes and shook her head.

“Oh, no,” Mash said, breathing in sharply. “ _Two_ Servants?” Unlike her larger companion, she didn’t hold any weapons (not that it didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous) and walked slowly towards us. A mighty scowl was on her face, but otherwise she wasn’t acting hostile.

Yet.

“All right, all right! I guess I just have to go with you,” she said, her lip curling up as her scowl morphed into a disgusted sneer. “Do whatever you want with me! Just hurry up!”

….Wait, _what?!?_ I blinked at her, feeling an unwelcome mixture of discomfort and shock at the female Servant. A choked, gagging sound managed to escape past Ritsuka’s numb lips, equally appalled by the implications those words carried. The girl scoffed, looking unapologetic or sympathetic. She turned slightly, jabbing a small thumb towards a wary Asterios.

“Asterios is near death now. He wouldn’t be of much use to you. Besides, if we take too long, he’ll die. Then, the labyrinth will collapse on you all.” We exchanged nervous looks at that little tidbit of information. I remember the last time I experienced a cave-in of any sort, back in Fuyuki. I was more than content with having that remain the _only_ time I got to do so. “—We should hurry back. Leave the navigation to me,” the girl added with a resigned sigh.

“…Uh…” Asterios grunted, gaze now fixated on his…friend?

Mash shook her head slightly, shaking off her own sense of bewilderment long enough to raise a hand up slightly and gaining the attention of our apparent ‘prisoner’.

“U-Ummm, I’m sorry. Do you have a moment?” Asked the Demi-Servant politely. The Servant rolled her eyes mockingly at the Shielder, crossing her arms.

“What is it, Miss Lame-Shield? Let’s hurry up and go to where _he_ is.” Oh, joy of joys, looks like we had yet another round of the mysterious pronoun game. Damn, I can’t wait!

…Okay, maybe I was just a bit in a foul mood at the moment…

“L-Lame?!?” Mash stammered, sounding both shock and hurt by the demeaning words. Drake gave the Servant a mighty scowl of her own, pushing her way past us, hands on her hip. She bent down slightly, her ocean-blue eyes bearing down into ones of pink.

“Hey, brat, don’t talk to us like that. After all, _you’re_ the one getting rescued!” The girl recoiled slightly, apparently taken aback by the pink-haired pirate.

“Huh? I don’t think that’s a way to talk to a grown woman,” she said reproachfully. Despite the situation, I silently snickered at the fact that the young-looking girl calling herself a grown woman. Still, if she was another gorgon, she wasn’t wrong. Drake gritted her teeth.

“Some nerve. Wanna sub in for the goddess statue on my ship’s bow?”

“Goddess statue?” She repeated, before shaking her head. “I’m not really sure what you mean by that, but I _AM_ the goddess, Euryale.” The aforementioned Servant blinked, looking at each and every one of us with pure incredulity. “Wait, you chased after me, not even knowing that?”

“We aren’t even here _for_ you,” I retorted. Yeah, Euryale had to be related to Stheno. She had the same sense of…of arrogance, as Stheno. It rubbed me the wrong way. Euryale stared at me as if I was a cockroach.

“Hmp. Well, I’m sure I can understand that you wouldn’t have anything like me, a full, super idol, on board your ship,” Euryale, turning her attention back to Drake. “You should at least remember my name, sheesh. Where are you from, anyways, third-rate pirate?”

Drake released a choked cry of frustration. “Y-You little brat!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I said, taking a few steps forward. My friend did the same thing.

“Yeah, I think this is just a big misunderstanding,” Ritsuka added, sounding more diplomatic out of the two of us. Having clearly dismissed me as being ‘worthy’ of her attention, the Servant cocked her head slightly to the side as she stared at Ritsuka.

“Huh? What? Wait…why, you’re a human! Both of you are. Are either of you the Master of that…. _thing_?” Euryale asked, her hands now on her hips as she stared at him accusingly. “What’s with that perverted Servant anyway? You can’t find something that disgusting, even in Greece!”

“Like I said, we weren’t chasing after you,” I growled. The bratty Servant blinked in surprise once more.

“Huh? Then what on earth are you doing?”

Resisting the urge to kill you, was what I was currently doing. “We’re trying to leave—” I began, trying to be diplomatic instead of passive-aggressive now.

“Are. You. Serious?!?” Euryale cried out, half shouting, half shrieking. Everyone winced as the sound was further amplified by the stone hallway. When the slight ringing in my ears finally began to fade away, the Servant groaned, her voice thankfully growing quieter. “You guys are so misleading!”

“Look who’s talking!” Mash retorted, taking all of us aback. Looks like Mash’s patience has run out. Rarely have I seen the polite and shy girl glaring so angrily at someone. “You trapped us inside a Bounded Field. Wouldn’t it be natural for us to assume that the two of you are our enemies?”

The smaller girl opened her mouth, before she was (thankfully) interrupted. Behind Euryale, Asterios tried to bend down and pick up his other axe, but stumbled slightly, leaning against the wall as more blood trickled out of the various wounds Mordred and Drake had inflicted on him. Euryale whirled around, a look of concern on her delicate features.

“Aah, Asterios!” She said, wrapping her hands around his free hand gingerly. “You don’t have to move! You’re tough. If you just stay still for a bit, you won’t die,” she chided in a surprisingly patient tone compared to that which she had used with us. Euryale bit her lip softly, and she looked up into his eyes. “You won’t die, right?”

Asterios gave off a simple grunt, and Euryale nodded, looking more at ease. “…Um,” the Berserker said, nodding in our direction. While I couldn’t tell what he had meant with that, it seems that Euryale did. She patted his arm in what I assumed was a comforting gesture.

“There’s no need to worry. They’re not associated with _him_ ,” She cooed, and Asterios relaxed. He closed his eyes briefly, and both the axe he still held and the one on the floor disappeared. Mordred and the others waited a few seconds, before they too dismissed or holstered their weapons.

It seems that, at least for the moment, a truce had descended between us. I wanted to turn and check on Mordred, but I knew that she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture just yet. Unless it was an obvious and/or major injury, the proud knight wouldn’t want to ask for me to use mana to heal her while others could overhear us.

I turned back around when I heard Mash breathing in deeply. The Demi-Servant made a visible effort to regain her cool before she tried talking to Euryale again. Once she had accomplished that, she cleared her throat softly. Euryale turned around slightly, arching an eyebrow in response but otherwise saying nothing.

“Pardon me. We were a bit shaken up as well,” Mash said apologetically. Euryale nodded with a soft ‘humph’ but didn’t reject the apology out of hand. Seeing this, mash continued speaking. “Is Asterios over there the one who put up the Bounded Field?”

“That’s right. It wasn’t meant to trap you guys here, though. It was to prevent the enemies outside from entering.”

“The Dragon Tooth Warriors?” I asked softly. Euryale’s face morphed into one of distaste, but this time it wasn’t aimed at me. She shook her head.

“No. These were already here when I met Asterios. They’re annoying, and seem to be searching for something, but they aren’t who I was talking about.”

“I see,” Mash said. “But, unless you remove this field, we’ll be stuck here…” Euryale released her grip on Asterios’s arm, and hummed for a moment, looking thoughtful. Finally, she gave us a lazy shrug.

“Mmm, fine,” she said dismissively. Drake’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well, that didn’t take a lot of convincing,” she remarked. Euryale waved her hand dismissively, though.

“It’s a simple numbers game,” she responded. “There are only two ways out of here. Either Asterios dies, or we remove the field. In that case, I’d rather remove the field.” She paused for a moment, before looking away, and we could barely hear her next sentence. “…It’s much better than being alone, anyways.”

I winced slightly, feeling sympathy for the girl. As abrasive as she was, it reminded me too much of how Mordred had been in life. Few people deserved to live life alone. Those few who did, were the worst of the worst. And the gorgon before us had yet to do something worth that opinion of mine.

“I see,” Drake said, before a crooked smile creeped up onto her lips. “Yes, I think I like you. But, you’re so cornered that you and Asterios had to put up this ‘Bounded Field’ thing, right?”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Euryale said coolly. Drake laughed softly, undeterred by the response she had received.

“It does! See, I love interesting things.”

“…Huh?”

“A trip around the world. Adventure. Dungeons. Monsters. Treasure! This world has so many interesting things to offer!” Drake said, extending both arms out to make a sweeping gesture of sorts. “Interesting things tend to be more valuable. That’s how this world works. That’s why I became a pirate. And that’s that. Besides, you smell like money. That’s why I’m bringing you aboard my ship.”

“H-Hey!” Euryale cried out, recoiling and taking a few steps backwards. She hid half of her body behind a now slowly-recovering Asterios, with only a face filled with outrage poking out as she glared balefully at Drake. “You can’t just decide that on your own! Board your ship? You must be insane!”

“You’re not the first one to suggest that,” I said dryly, and Drake winked at me. Mordred growled softly, but she held her tongue. It was rather cute, seeing the Knight of Rebellion being a bit possessive.

“I already decided! I’m not leaving Asterios behind!” Drake’s smirk widened, one hand resting on her hip.

“Now, now, who said anything like that? Asterios is coming with us, too.” The Berserker in question blinked slowly.

“Huh?” Euryale said again. Drake’s eyes swept over the Minotaur, her smirk somehow managing to grow even bigger by the second.

“So much guts and power….” She paused and adopted a flirtatious look and winked at the Berserker. “And, he’s quite a hunk if you look at him long enough!”

I flashed Mordred a sympathetic look as I heard the blonde Saber gagging softly at Drake’s words and mannerism. I’d give her a side hug, but again, not something she’d allow me to do with others present. Drake thankfully ignored Mordred, sparing my partner from…whatever she’d have done.

Drake was a force unto herself, after all.

“I’d be the laughingstock of pirates everywhere if I let this talent slip by! Hey, would you like to be a bodyguard on my ship?” Drake inquired, pointing a finger at a stunned Asterios. He stared at his companion, who was also in a state of semi-shock. “If you refuse, there’s nothing I can do. Hey, will you two die unless you’re cooped up inside an underground maze?”

“Th-That’s not really the case,” Euryale stammered, still flat-footed by Drake’s offer/demand. Shaking her head, the Servant leaned forward slightly, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the grinning pirate. “…Are you sure?”

“Of course I am!” Drake instantly replied with a bark of laughter. “I’ll pay you well, too. Oh, but don’t expect any health benefits from us.”

“That’s not the issue. I mean…” Euryale paused, rubbing her chin as she mulled over Drake’s words. “As long as you are okay with it. Asterios, what do _you_ want to do?” She asked of her taller companion. We all looked at him. By this point, at least half of his wounds had healed, and he was no longer bleeding.

“Go.”

“Are you sure?” Asterios nodded, pointing at the gorgon.

“If…you…go…me…follow. Alone…lonely,” Asterios said with great effort. I flinched again at the idea of being all alone down here in the darkness. Euryale nodded, a pleased yet mysterious smile appearing on her child-like lips.

“I see,” she said pleasantly, before looking back at Drake. “Very well then, we’ll board your ship. Ah! But I’ll need for one of you to prepare my own room. I have no intent of showing my face to common pirates. Of course, your ship has a bath right. Oh, and also—" I tuned out the rest of Euryale’s list of demands. Geeze, talk about being a spoiled brat. I instead turned towards my friends.

“Senpai, Senpai!” Mash excitedly nudged Rits, looking quite relieved by the outcome. “It seems that things went quite well without us needing to interject further.”

“All’s well that end’s well,” my fellow Master said in agreement, a lopsided smile showing as his shoulders lowered slightly, all tension now gone from him.

“Good point,” Mash said with a knowing nod. I chuckled dryly.

“A bit optimistic a statement, but also fitting here,” I added in agreement.

“Still, the Minotaur was supposedly a monster. One that devoured children offered up as sacrifices, but…”

“Put me on your shoulders, Asterios,” Euryale demanded. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Berserker in question bent down, allowing for the small and light-weight gorgon to mount him. “Oh my, you’re even taller than my _loser sister_.”

Asterios stood back up slowly. “Uh…Uh…Uh…”

“Ouch! Crouch down a little more! My head’s going to hit the ceiling otherwise!”

“…Uuu…” Asterios said, complying and earning a satisfied hum of approval from his companion as they started to walk back the way we had come from.

“Those of us whose tales have been lionized in Greek myth tend to not be given the most flattering of portrayals,” Medea said softly, the words tinged with bitterness. Before Rits or I could offer any words of comfort or sympathy, the Caster started moving, following the still-demanding Euryale atop an incredibly-patient Asterios. Drake shook her head, laughing some more.

“Ahahaha! My, goddesses sure have lots of demands! Come on, let’s go. The sooner I can see the sun and my ship, the better!”

“Those may be some of the finest words yet that I have heard you utter,” I said, earning another bout of laughter from the pink-haired pirate. Needing no further urging, we began to follow after the trio of Greek Servants. I gestured towards Mordred to slow down, so that my partner and I would be the rear guard.

She nodded in understanding, dismissing her helmet to reveal a face that was pinched slightly in pain, My stomach lurched slightly at seeing the one I loved in discomfort, but I waited a few more minutes to give us a little more distance from the others, but not dangerously so.

“You did great back there,” I said with a soft smile. Despite the mild discomfort she seemed to be in, Mordred adopted that pleased, proud smirk of hers.

“Heh, did you expect anything less from me?” Mordred said with a smirk, before wincing. “Damn, the fight was a bit harder than I had expected, though,” she added with an almost inaudible grunt. I frowned.

“How bad’s the damage?” I whispered, now that Mordred and I were (relatively) alone, and I could safely ask the question that had been bothering me since the fight ended. I saw her wince slightly again as she breathed in sharply.

“Broken rib or three. That bastard hits hard,” she said softly.

“Can you show me where? I’d like to take a moment to heal that up, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure. No point in keeping myself in pain or anything, after all.”

With the permission I had needed now given, I gingerly placed the palm of my right hand to the area my lover had indicated. Closing my eyes, I activated my Magic Circuits and pushed some of my mana into her.

The knight took in another sharp breath, before exhaling in relief as I helped speed up the recovery process for her. A second later, I turned off my Circuits and retracted my hand. “Better?” I asked with a soft smile.

“Mmm, yeah. Thanks, Jacob,” Mordred said, stretching with a pleased smile. “Now, come on, let’s catch up with the others.

* * *

The Lancer sighed softly, watching his…teammates. Not for the first time since meeting them was the Servant silently praying to the gods to grant him both the patience and strength to resist the urge to take his chances in the ocean, rather than deal with this rowdy crew.

“Please, let me kill him,” the short female pirate with white hair and wrapped up in a gray-and-black cloak of some sort whined for the umptieth time. Next to her, the pirate’s friend rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Now, Mary, you’ve already gotten your answer to that question of yours,” the taller, busty blonde chided gently. A large-caliber musket, as the Lancer had learned about, was slung over her back. She wore an open, single-breasted coat dyed a brilliant shade of crimson, with false gold lacing further brightening the getup. It also made it seem like it was the _only_ thing the blonde was wearing. “Earthworms, cockroaches, even plague-ridden rats are all living things, anyways, you know? That means it is okay for this Servant to live. I shall allow it,” she said, though the weary sigh tacked on at the end kind of ruined the sentiment.

The Servant she was referring to, their Captain, was watching them all with an uncomfortable-pleased expression on his face. “Ohoho! LOL. My, my, such intense and poisonous talk you’re engaging in yet again! LOLOLOL!” Everyone rolled their eyes at him as the black-haired man continued killing air. “Heh-Heh! LOL Missy Anne is always so gentle when she throttles me.”

“Let’s kill him, Anne,” Mary whispered as the duo of female pirates stared blankly at the Captain. “We’d be doing the world a favor.” Anne shook her head, though not without a tad bit of reluctance.

“I said no….again. If you keep your distance, he’s just a shameful, unpleasant, rambling and stinking guy, right?” Anne said soothingly. The Lancer heard her smaller friend grumbling something unintelligible under her breath, but whatever it was she said, Anne was satisfied, for she gave Mary a warm smile. The Lancer continued watching as he leaned against the main mast while Anne addressed the Captain.

“Now, Captain, give us your orders soon, or I’ll gouge, crush, and blow away that lighter-than-a-balloon head of yours,” Anne said with remarkable cheer, as if she hadn’t threatened to brutally murder the apparently-insane Rider in charge.

The Captain’s eyes widened, and he pressed the palm of his hook-free hand to his forehead, an exaggerated, perhaps comical, wide-eyed expression. “Oops, good heavens me! LOL, sorry, sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly before performing a sweeping bow. “Please, let me work hard from now on. LOLOLOL.

Silence. The Lancer watched with morbid interest as Anne’s right eyebrow began to twitch violently. Her face started to adopt a ruddy hue, as Mary adopted the role of de-escalation this time.

“Anne, calm down or you might pop a vessel.”

“Going into totally serious mode! Wowowowow! It’s coming, coming, coming—”

“And my patience is going, going, going,” The Lancer said under his breath as the Captain once more ignored his imminent demise.

“And so, my brothers, that oh-so-divine, priceless singing voice belonging to Euryale—Let’s go catch her!” The Servant said, throwing his hands up in the air theatrically, as if expecting an applause (which would happen when Tartarus froze), before pausing. “Oh, and the you-know-what from the old hag, too!”

“That’s the main target, idiot,” Anne growled out through tightly-clenched teeth.

“It’s no good. He can only think about Euryale. At least he’s after her voice, and not wanting to do indecent things to her. Fine, we’ll just have to be careful,” Mary groaned resignedly. The Lancer agreed. As much as he found the idea of chasing after a…Loli, was it? Anyways, at least they were chasing after one with no sexual interest shown by the Captain. Otherwise, orders or not, this old man would have to break orders.

“Duhuhuhu! Miss Euryale’s so fine! I love the way that she can sing!” The Captain said cheerfully, rubbing his palms together excitedly. “Now, Missy Mary Read! Missy Anne Bonny! Mistah Eric Bloodaxe! And—” Damn it, so much for being ignored…

“Teacher! Our teacher! Please, take the field!” His ‘boss’ ordered. The Lancer sighed, summoning his weapon and pushing himself off of the mast, walking over towards the others. He sighed heavily once more.

“Ah, I wonder…I never did anything great enough to be called a teacher, yeah? As you can see, I’m a bit of an underdog.” The Lancer felt his eyebrow twitch briefly as the bizarre Rider clapped his back happily, laughing once more like a loon.

“Haha, stop joking! With you by our side, Hector, great hero of the Trojan War, our power level will be over 9,000! Plus, we have had a nutritionally-balanced breakfast! Great and Ne-Great!”

Hector blinked slowly, before turning towards the three other Servants nearby. “…Hey, guys. Are you really okay with a captain like this?” He waited for an answer, and to his dismay, no one replied, Anne and Mary in particular glaring heatedly at the Servant in question. “Hello?”

“Ahnm, these freezing glares of fire feel so good. But alas, that’s all for now folks! They should be coming out soon, so get ready!” The Captain laughed, as the crew of the ship Hector was aboard began rushing to their battle stations, as he and the others all turned to watch the island just barely visible over the horizon, where their quarry was at.

Just a little longer…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think about the fight scene? Also, what about the scene with 'The Captain'? Poor Hector, press F in chat :P I totally forgot how bratty Euryale came across when we first meet her, so I hope I didn't over do it? Overall, was it a good chapter?
> 
> Now, since they are coming up soon, I must regretfully announce that Artemis and Orion will be featuring in the story. I'll try to tone them down, but no promises sadly. Hope y'all can forgive me for this!
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: Who is your favorite Greek Servant? Secondly, what was your favorite arc story-wise of the third singularity in the FGO game?
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave your thoughts and support down below! Always eager to hear feedback! I hope you guys and gals enjoyed the chapter, and have a wonderful day! See all of y'all in the next chapter!


	62. The Scourge of the Caribbean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob gets a little scolding, and yet another complication arises in the search for the Grail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter! Not much to say, other than enjoy and see you in the end notes!

“You, stupid, headstrong, _IDIOT!_ ”

I couldn’t help but wilt a little bit under the fearsome glare that Jeanne d’Arc was giving me. Everyone else, even Mordred, were off to the side, some of them leaning against the mountainside. Everyone was watching the two of us with morbid fascination, even those who pretended to not be doing so.

When we had emerged from the underground complex of the labyrinth, I had immediately been confronted by the blonde Ruler. Gauntlet-clad hands on her hips, her jaw stuck out in a stern frown, her turquoise eyes bearing down on me.

Shiiiiiit….she and the others heard the fighting, didn’t they?

“There wasn’t exactly much of a chance to get ahold of you guys?” I tried weakly, and Jeanne arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms, unimpressed by my answer.

“Two words. Command. Seals,” the Ruler said in a flat tone, and I winced.

“Okay, okay, I forgot. In my defense, though, even if I had called you and the others, there wasn’t enough room for everyone to fight. Besides, it worked out in the end,” I said softly. Jeanne’s brow furrowed deeper with each word I utter. She started to open her mouth when we were interrupted by the sound of metal moving.

“Hey, Ruler. Relax. As you kept saying, I would sooner die than let our Master get hurt. Even if he’s prone to being an idiot at times,” Mordred said, finally coming to my side. Jeanne huffed and turned around. “You made your point clear, so let’s move on. I’m sick and tired of being on this island,” Mordred said with an unusual mixture of diplomacy and bluntness.

Another unexpected thing about the Saber: Mordred had a decent Charisma rank. Though she rarely used it, apparently, she decided this was one of those times. I shot my partner a thankful nod, and she just shrugged it off.

Jeanne remained silent, before exhaling loudly. “You’re right. I’m glad you are okay, Master.”

“Okay, now that y’all have finished your little chat, can we get a move on?” Drake drawled, and I blushed. This was why I preferred to have this type of discussion held behind closed doors. Oh well. What’s done is done, and while I can tell that Jeanne was still irked at me, she was calm enough to not blow up again or something.

“Absolutely”

* * *

It was about one in the afternoon when we finally returned to the beach. Nothing had happened during our prolonged absence, and Drake’s subordinates who were waiting aboard the _Golden Hind_ began waving excitedly at their leader. While I couldn’t make out the words, the bay echoed with excited and rowdy voices.

I smiled and shook my head at the sight, before focusing on our guests. The girl and her Berserker mount made their way over to the water’s edge. Asterios bent down, and the gorgon daintily dismounted from her perch on his shoulder. The Berserker then took a few steps into the water, then stood still.

“All right. Remove the Bounded Field, Asterios,” Euryale commanded regally, and the Minotaur nodded.

“Under…stood…” Raising his arms to the sky, as if holding it up, he closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. Then, without any warning, he released a mighty roar. Drake and a number of the other Servants nearby actually jumped into the air, so startled were they. His task finished, Asterios and Euryale rejoined us.

“Geeze, big guy! If you’re gonna shout like that, tell us first!” Drake said, rubbing a finger around in her right ear. Asterios said nothing, but he did look to the side a bit sheepishly.

“There,” Euryale interjected, gesturing towards the Golden Hind. “The Bounded Field has been removed. Now, let’s go.” Asterios smiled excitedly, nodding his head rapidly.

“Mm!”

“At this rate, I’m not sure what’s worse, the ocean or dry land,” Mordred muttered as we began boarding the rowboat. I gave her a comforting nudge with my shoulder, and she relaxed slightly at the gesture.

“Don’t worry. Once we find and retrieve the Grail, you’ll be on dry land for quite some time. Gotta admit though, I wonder how well Drake’s crew is going to react to our new friends here.”

* * *

“He’s huge! Huge!” One pirate exclaimed, trembling slightly as Lu Bu helped pull Asterios up onto the deck. Well, at least they weren’t disappointing me. Or drawing their weapons and acting all hostile like they kinda had when we had been Rayshifted onto the main deck of their ship.

“And scary!” A second pirate chimed in. A sweating Bombe turned to look at Drake with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Boss? Are we taking these two with us as well?” The one-eyed ruffian asked. Bombe slapped the back of his head slightly, rolling her eyes before glaring sternly at the assembled crowd.

“What’s this whole ‘scary’ nonsense! You guys are veteran pirates! Act like it, for god’s sake. Yes, these two are our guests now. Erm, mind introducing yourselves?” Drake asked, looking at an unamused Euryale and her companion. The gorgon rolled her eyes dramatically before answering.

“Remember!” She said loudly, enunciating each syllable of the word. “I’m Euryale. And he is Asterios. Just so you sorry lot of brigands know, we’re like these two’s companions over there,” she said with a smirk, waving towards Rits and I. She then frowned, placing both hands on her hips and glared at the assembled pirates. “If you touch me, I will beat you up. Got it?”

“How aggressive…” Mash whispered to Rits and I. I grunted while my friend nodded. Euryale turned around and smiled sweetly at us, though I wasn’t fooled for a minute to think she held any sort of affection towards us.

“With matters like this, it’s better to make things clear from the start.”

“Okay, well now that’s been taken care of, get to it, lads. It’s time to set sail again!”

About five minutes later, and we were once more at sea. The helmsman was following a path Drake had charted, referring once more to the map that Eric’s ship had held. Meanwhile, Drake’s crew had eyed the gorgon and the Minotaur with nervous and suspicious looks, but kept quiet for a bit, focused more on their various tasks, and also not eager to draw the reprimanding words of the pink-haired pirate captain.

Said captain was currently leaning against the railing besides us, smiling faintly as she stared at the bright blue waters we were on top of. “Good weather, low waves. The whole thing with the island aside, it’s a really good day! Days like this make me want to grab a drink.”

“…Isn’t that every day?” Mash said rather dryly, arching an eyebrow. Drake slapped the railing with a toothy smirk, throwing her head back and laughing.

“Hahaha! You’re right!”

“I think I have found a soul mate,” Jing Ke slurred happily, holding a half-filled tankard up before downing it. I chuckled quietly, shaking my head at the antics.

“Anyways,” Drake said, turning around and leaning her back against the railing with crossed arms. “According to that map, the next island is only a bit further to the west of us….huh?” Drake said, closing her eyes and sniffing the air briefly.

“What’s up?” I asked, curious to hear what the scarred woman had been distracted by. Opening her eyes, she shrugged with a lopsided smile.

“Nothing too bad, per say. The wind just changed directions. There might be a storm later.” Mordred groaned, clearly not looking forward to experiencing such an event. I felt her discomfort quite plainly. Excuse the pun, but I was in the same boat as her in this case.

“Wouldn’t that be considered as something bad?” Marie politely inquired. Drake shrugged it off with her trademark laugh.

“Maybe for a bunch of rookies, but this’ll be nothing for us! Lads, get the freight and food organized. I want our cannons to be secured! Get to it!”

“Aye, Captain!”

Over the sound of Drake’s comrades rushing around to fulfill her latest set of instructions, I started to hear the faintest hints of a song, coming from near the bow, fairly close to where we were standing in fact. Looking in that direction, I saw Asterios wandering over to a singing Euryale.

“…..Song?” He said in a low, rumbling voice. The gorgon jumped slightly, before quickly recovering, adopting a nonchalant posture.

“Oh, did you hear that?”

“Yes,” the Berserker grunted.

“Well, fine then. I’ll let you hear it as a special treat.” With that, Euryale continued singing. As much as I disliked the tiny Servant, she definitely had a fine set of pipes. I couldn’t help but wonder if the whole story of the sirens were in fact inspired by Euryale. Drake also listened in, and when she had finished, Drake clapped loudly.

“I like it. Beautiful songs are so soothing.”

“Oh, Captain Drake. I don’t remember giving you permission to listen,” Euryale said with a slight frown. Drake smirked, waving a hand dismissively.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Euryale sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but it’s not something you get to hear often.” She paused, smirking deviously. “Be grateful, and listen to the music of a goddess.” With those words, she began singing again. It must have been five minutes or so by the time she was wrapping up. Mash’s eyes were closed, and the Demi-Servant looked completely at peace.

“It’s a beautiful song,” she said to Ritsuka and I. Her animal companion chirped heartily from his perch on her shoulder. I grunted. Yeah, I felt that she was quite a brat, but damn, she sang well.

“There, the end,” Euryale said, basking in the thunderous applause. I raised an eyebrow at seeing a weeping Amadeus clapping enthusiastically, the composer looking like he had found religion or something in Euryale’s voice. Next to him, Marie was alternating between clapping and rubbing his back, and pulling it off with a surprising display of grace and skill.

“Bravo, bravo!” Amadeus managed to say. On the other side of him, Nero’s ahoge (another term Ritsuka had taught me) bounced up and down.

“Umu! Truly a voice of a goddess!”

“Hmmmmm,” Asterios hummed happily. Mash stepped forward as the small crowd of pirates and Servants began to break up, and Euryale looked at her.

“Euryale, I have a question. Why are people chasing after you?” The Servant wrinkled her nose at Mash’s question, her lips curled up in disgust.

“My, you sure know how to open up old wounds,” the gorgon said as she shook her head with a sigh. Mash bowed her head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but I thought it was still something I should ask.”

“Hmmmm,” Euryale hummed, staring at Mash before shrugging. “Well, since you didn’t mean ill, I’ll forgive you. See, I’m cute, right?”

“Huh?”

“ _Nani_?” Ritsuka added.

“Umm…” I said nervously, fidgeting slightly.

“I said, I’m cute, right?”

“Erm…Well…Yes,” Mash stammered, looking as completely bewildered as I felt.

“What about you, Ritsuka?”

“You’re cute,” my friend said with a casual shrug. For once, I blessed whoever was watching us from above for Ritsuka’s denseness. Her ego now properly stroked, and especially not requiring an answer from me or Mordred, Euryale nodded.

“Yes, I’m pretty and cute, with a wondrous voice. That’s why men have always wanted me. But this time, the most atrocious and crazed man is after me. A strange pirate, just like Drake,” Euryale began with a scowl, gesturing towards Francis.

“A pirate?” Mash repeated, and Euryale nodded once.

“Yes. But not just an ordinary pirate. No, it is a ‘Pirate Servant’ who is after me.”

“Sounds like fun,” my lover said with her usual dryness, and I nudged her gently. It was a bit too late, sadly, for Euryale was giving Mordred the stink eye, but Mordred didn’t react, as unimpressed with Euryale’s behavior as I was.

“I don’t know his True Name, but he’s certainly insane. More importantly,” Euryale said, with an air of finality to her as she turned to Asterios. “Asterios, are your wounds almost finished healing?”

The Berserker nodded with a grunt, and Euryale flashed him a pleased smile. “I see. Then you’ll be alright with carrying me on your shoulders?” She asked sweetly. He nodded again.

“Mhm…” He then bent down and helped Euryale up onto his broad, right shoulder, before standing back up.

“All right,” Euryale said with a hint of excitement in her voice, “What a great view—"

“Euryale?” Mash asked, noticing how silent and pale the purple-haired gorgon had gone. It was another voice who provided the answer to the Shielder’s question, however.

“Boss! There’s a ship bearing the same flag as the one from yesterday! Starboard side! Looks like she’s on an intercept course towards us!” The lookout suddenly called out. Almost in unison, Mash, Ritsuka, Drake, Mordred, Euryale, and I rushed over to the indicated railing.

* * *

The ship was about the size of the _Gold Hind._ Knowing their luck, Ritsuka Fujimaru didn’t exactly have much hope for them suddenly breaking away at the last moment and retreating.

“I guess they’re enemies, then,” Drake remarked as she stood next to Ritsuka. The Japanese magus looked over at his fellow Master. Jacob was staring ahead, one hand instinctively resting on the pommel of his trusty sword. “Wait a minute…that ship looks familiar…”

“That flag again…I know!” Mash said suddenly, holding her wrist up and activating her device. “Doctor!” His kouhai shouted frantically.

 _“Mash? Thank goodness, I finally got through! What in the world is happening over there?”_ The voice of Doctor Roman was filled with a mixture of concern, relief, and anxiety. Ritsuka chuckled sheepishly.

“Ahaha, it slipped my mind to contact you when the Bounded Field was removed. Sorry, Doctor Roman,” Ritsuka said apologetically.

“ _What?!?”_ He flinched at the shrill pitch Roman’s voice acquired. _“You forgot about me? I’m the loveable and reliable Doctor Roman, remember?”_ Jacob coughed quietly nearby, but when he looked over at the American, his friend merely gestured to ignore that, even as he smirked slightly.

“Sorry, but can we talk about it later?” Mash said, looking over her shoulder to see the ship was getting closer. “Could you tell us about that flag again? Communications broke down and we couldn’t hear you.”

_“Oh, yeah. That flag is a legendary Jolly Roger, belonging to one of the most infamous pirates in history.”_

“You’re joking, right?” Jacob suddenly broke in, his face set in a frown. Ritsuka noticed that his friend was now gripping the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white as he did so.

“ _I’m afraid not. His name is Edward Teach. However, he is better known as—”_

“Blackbeard. The Scourge of the Carolinas,” Jacob said grimly.

“ _Right! Be careful, Mash!”_ The Demi-Servant looked over her shoulder one last time, swallowing heavily. The ship was now within hailing distance of the _Golden Hind_. She had pulled aside, but didn’t open fire. Yet. Across from them, on his ship, stood a tall, thin man. He wore an admiral’s coat of sorts that he had left unbuttoned, showing off a somewhat hairy, bare chest. His right hand had some sort of gauntlet with a long, dangerous-looking metal hook extending from the knuckles. He had thick, black hair, and his beard was partially tied up.

“Unfortunately, Doctor, it’s too late,” Mash said sadly.

_“What?”_

“Ah! It’s him! It’s him! The pirate who was chasing my ship before I met you guys!” Drake shouted angrily. Her hands were gripping the wooden railing tightly, and a fire was dancing in her eyes. “I found him at last. I’ll blast him beyond the horizon! You hear that?!?”

The man said nothing, acting completely nonchalant, as if the _Golden Hind_ and her passengers were invisible. Drake snarled, her shoulders rising slightly in anger.

“Hey, are you listening to me, you hairy oath?” The person in question blinked, before cupping his ear slightly.

“Huh?” he called out in a coarse-sounding voice. “Sorry, my ears don’t pick up old-hag noises!” The man, Edward Teach apparently, shouted out mockingly. Drake inhaled sharply, and Ritsuka nervously shot her a glance to see that her eyes were now chips of ice, narrowed dangerously so.

“Say that again?” She said in a dangerously calm, quiet tone.

“…What?” Mash asked him softly at the same time. He could only shrug helplessly. He couldn’t recall seeing Drake act like this during any of the short time they had been together. The only thing he felt confident in saying was that Francis Drake was _not_ amused.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” Drake said louder glaring at a now-smirking Blackbeard.

“I. Just. Said! I didn’t ask for old hags! What’s with them useless, huge knockers, anyway? Is that a joke? Guess scars are oaky? Blade scars are good, they turn me on. But the age…hmmm, how do I put this nicely?” Ritsuka watched as Blackbeard scratched the side of his head with his claw before pounding a fist into his palm. “Ah, that’s right! You’re too old! You should consider retiring!”

Everyone turned to look at Drake, expecting her to explode into anger. However, what Ritsuka and the others saw was far more worrying. Her mouth was opening and closing rapidly, her eyes wide. No words managed to escape her lips, though.

“Boss?” Bombe asked nervously. Getting no response, he gingerly shook her shoulder. “Boss?”

“I think she’s dead, inside at least,” another pirate said, readying a long-barreled musket. Behind them, more of Drake’s pirates began readying their own firearms of various sizes and types. Euryale popped her head out from behind Asterios, a sympathetic and understanding look on her features.

“It’s hopeless,” she said, shaking her head grimly. “She’s all frozen up. I was the same during my own first encounter. I’m surprised I survived it. Out of the corner of Ritsuka’s eyes, he saw Blackbeard straighten up, a creepily joyful look now showing.

“Mm-hoooooooooooooo!” The…pirate….shouted. “You really are here, Euryale-Chan! Ah, really cute! Cute! Kawaii! Soon, I’ll hear that lovely voice of yours! All mine, too!”

Ritsuka’s jaw hung open, along with virtually everyone else’s. Euryale hid behind Asterios once more. “Uh, I _really_ don’t like this,” she said with great discomfort. Ritsuka could understand. He also wondered what the hell was up with Blackbeard using Japanese!?! Last he checked, the one known as Edward Teach had only focused on the Eastern coast of North America! Ritsuka snapped out of his horror-induced shock by a feral growling noise coming from Asterios, who had now summoned both of his axes, and had a murderous look about him.

“What? You there! Big guy! You’re going to be in my way?!?” Blackbeard said angrily, neither looking or sounding the least bit intimidated by the extremely hostile Berserker.

“Is this really happening?” Ritsuka moaned to Mash, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. His friend didn’t reply at first, still wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He nudged her gently, and the Demi-Servant jumped up with a surprisingly adorable squeak. “Mash? You good?”

“Huh? I’m sorry, I almost passed out,” Mash said.

“Me too,” Ritsuka admitted, tuning out the string of curse words Jacob was muttering under his breath angrily. He saw his fellow Master turn around and walk away from the railing, but focused on his other best friend.

“Erm…What is that, exactly?” Mash asked, and Ritsuka shrugged, still processing everything. And here he had thought that Astolfo could be rather eccentric! Guess he owed the Rider an apology later.

“Blackbeard, Servant…Maybe?” Mash shook her head violently, her pink bangs flying side to side by the action.

“I refuse. I won’t admit that he is a Servant,” Mash said bluntly and rather loudly. Unfortunately, her words caused Blackbeard to shift his gaze to focus on Ritsuka and Mash. The pirate arched one of his eyebrows theatrically.

“Hmm? Mm…Mm, mm-hmmmm…I approve!” He roared, nodding as if he was a wise sage discovering the secret to immortality or something like that. Mash flinched beside him. “You’re accepted! Ta-da-dah-da-dah!”

“Eek!” Mash squeaked with a heart-tugging whimper for extra effect. Blackbeard started to stroke his beard, lost in thought.

“Mmmmmm, who was the guy that liked one eye covered? I think it was Bartholomew, maybe? No, his fetish was both eyes covered….” He shrugged with a toothy grin that was starting to make Ritsuka greatly desire a chance to board the crazy-ass Servant’s ship and knock those teeth of his in. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, you, pretty Servant! Tell me your name! If you don’t—” He trailed off threateningly, shaking his hook-arm at a pale Mash.

“I-If I don’t, what?” She asked nervously. Blackbeard closed his eyes and adjusted his hands to make it look like he was resting his head against a pillow.

“I will dream about you when I sleep tonight~” He said flirtatiously. Okay, no. No, no, no, no, no. NO! Unacceptable! Mash summoned her shield while he seethed silently, his fist tightly curled, and she took a deep breath, steadying herself against her weapon.

“My Name is Mash Kyrielight! I’m a Demi-Servant!”

“Mash…Mash…Mashmallow. Mallow mallow…bofufufufu!”

Ritsuka’s teeth were now clenched tightly. That was a kind of adorable nickname for his kouhai, except because of the person who came up with it. A trembling and scared-looking Mash backed up slightly, looking at him with those pretty (pretty?!?) eyes of hers.

“Please save me, Senpai! The goosebumps that man is giving me won’t stop popping up!” Thinking frantically, Ritsuka gave her a brief comforting side-hug. Truth be told, he didn’t expect for it to accomplish much, but to his pleasant surprise, Mash seemed to relax slightly. When they broke apart, she had that adorable blush of hers present.

“Th…Thank you very much, Senpai. But, what can we do? Someone like that…what, no, _how_ , do we deal with them?”

“Well, I know where we can start,” a familiar voice said gruffly from behind. He turned around to see that Jacob was back. More surprisingly, or perhaps alarming, though, was what he held. At first, it looked like a long, thick stick of metal and wood, but a half a second later, he realized that his fellow Master had somehow acquired a gun!

“Master, where did you get that?” Jeanne asked, cocking her head to side slightly as the American Master moved over to the railing.

“I guess you inspired me earlier, Euryale. My ‘voice’ might not be anywhere near as good as yours, though. Might wanna cover your ears, you guys. This is about to make a pretty nice whistle,” Jacob said rather casually, kneeling at the railing and resting the barrel of the cocked musket on it.

“What the…” Mordred said, her eyes wide, before her lips twitched slightly, quirking upward as she gave Jacob a toothy smile. “Make it hurt, Master.”

“Kinda the point. I doubt that it’ll kill him, but at least it’ll shut him the fuck up!” Jacob said with a feral snarl reminiscent of one of Mordred’s, as he finished adjusting the musket. A second latter, he pulled the trigger of the firearm, and a cloud of white smoke and fire erupted at the muzzle. A split second later, Blackbeard stumbled backwards, yelping loudly as he clutched a hand to his right shoulder.

“Oi, no fair! We were having such a lovely time chatting!”

“We have quite a different definition of ‘lovely’, then!” Jacob hollered back. Drake shook her head, finally snapping out of it. Her eyes were blazing fiercely, as she unholstered and cocked one of her pistols and turned to Bombe.

“…Fire!” She roared.

“What?” Bombe asked.

“Cannons.”

“B-Boss?” Bombe tried again, the one-eyed pirate sounding quite nervous now. Drake reached out and grabbed a fistful of her subordinate’s shirt, yanking him closer and off balance.

“Cannons. Every single damn one. I don’t care. Just Fire! Otherwise, I will pack each and every one of you guys into them as cannonballs and fire them myself!” Bombe gulped loudly.

“A-Aye, aye, Captain!” He said before being released. Landing on his feet, he looked over at the overs. “You heard the Boss, lads! All hands, to your battle stations! Let’s show this lousy lout that you don’t fuck around with the _Golden Hind_!”

“Oh, old hag-Chan? You mad? You mad, bro? Like huff and puff?” Blackbeard shouted with a mocking sneer.

“Bring the ship around! Send that bearded fool down to Davy Jones’ Locker!” Drake roared, and Ritsuka almost lost his balance if not for Mash’s quick-thinking as the _Golden Hind_ began to veer around to both get a better angle and put distance between the two.

“Ooooh, how scary! Bah, empty words, methinks, old-timer! Lads, show this old hag why the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ has no equal!” Blackbeard’s own crew cheered, and Ritsuka watched as the covers protecting the cannons below on the gun deck were lifted, and the artillery of both ships was rolled out.

“Master, get behind me!” Mash said, placing herself in front of him while Jacob traded his empty musket for another, before he and Mordred hurried to the other side of the ship. Behind him, he felt a slight yank on the back of his uniform. Turning around, he saw that a grim-faced Euryale had summoned a small bow in one hand.

“Hey, Ritsuka. You too, Servant. Make sure that despicable sea roach doesn’t come near me. Protect me well. Got that?” She waited for him to nod, and then continued speaking after he had done so. “Good. Fortunately, as you can see, my class is Archer. Therefore, I can at least give you some cover.”

The reply from either him or Mash was drowned out as, after finishing its turn, the _Golden Hind_ shuddered as the opening salvo of cannonballs were launched, bracketing Blackbeard’s ship.

The Battle of the Pirate Captains had begun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys think? Poor Mash, always getting hit on by everyone BUT the one she wants! Also, yay, Jeanne is pulling out the big sister card! Expect her to be a bit more prominent as oppose to background in the next few chapters or so. Also, y'all still enjoying Blackbeard [improved version]?
> 
> Not much to say, really, so just tell me what y'all think, and here are the questions of the day: First one: Whose your most recent four/five star Servant for FGO players, and when did you get them? Second question: What do y'all think about Mordred possibly acting like a bit of a tsundere?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to leave your thoughts and comments, and I'll eagerly be awaiting them! Have a wonderful weekend, and see you lovely gals and guys in the next chapter!


	63. Battle of the Pirates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company fight Blackbeard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time! Not much to say, other than I hope you guys enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

It was with grim satisfaction that I saw yet another pirate collapse onto his back as I grabbed a fresh musket. While I had focused more on hand-to-hand combat and the art of swordplay, my father had insisted on me knowing the basics to handle a gun. Granted, my old man never covered muskets or other flintlock firearms when he had done so, but I was a quick learner. Still, I could tell that I would never be able to qualify myself as a marksman of the musket, seeing as how I missed twice as much as I had hit a target.

Below me, the _Golden Hind_ lurched violently to the side as another broadside of cast-iron cannonballs were belched out. A second later, and I was watching as the enemy ship rocked backwards slightly. However, the sides of Blackbeard’s ship were surprisingly resilient. Maybe because of Blackbeard’s status as a Servant?

Regardless of the reason why, the vast majority of the cannonballs that didn’t splash into the matter bounced off of the wooden hall, essentially being about as effective as if I had lobbed an orange at the ship. Thankfully, a few of the shots from each broadside were starting to make an impact of some sort, but it wasn’t enough to disable or sink the _Queen Anne’s Revenge._

I braced myself, throwing up a thick wall of ice as I saw the side of Blackbeard’s ship become covered in a cloud of white smoke, followed immediately afterward by the roar of dozens of cannons as he answered Drake’s latest broadside with one of his own.

Unlike Drake’s salvo, this one was aimed at the main deck, most likely with the intention of killing or disabling anyone positioned there. Thankfully for Drake and her crew, there were Servants aboard her ship.

With a soft grunt, Mordred sliced in rapid succession three cannon balls. The iron halves either clattered harmlessly behind her on the deck or into the ocean. With a surprising, awe-inspiring display of skill, agility, and dexterity, Nero leapt off the side of the ship and in a blink of an eye, and a trail of red roses, cut apart at least a dozen cannonballs. Her golden sabaton-heels landed on the side of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ , and she pushed herself off the wooden hull, landing back on the main deck of the _Golden Hind_.

The other Servants were performing similar magnificent acts of magic and combat abilities, rendering my make-shift ice shield rather useless. Still, avoiding damage wasn’t going to end this confrontation, and no one bothered trying to fool themselves otherwise.

“Fire the cannons!” Drake roared, standing proudly upright, unflinching in the hail of lead and iron balls being thrown at her ship. By doing so, she acted as a rallying point of sorts, keeping her crew of veteran pirates steadfast and determined. “Fire, FIRE!”

With that, the _Golden Hind_ rocked backwards again from another broadside. Sadly, once more was little achieved from the mass of iron her cannons belched forth amid fire and smoke.

“Damnit!” Bombe cursed close to me. “It’s no good, Boss! Our cannonballs are bouncing off! Their hull strength is on another level!” Worse, it looked like Blackbeard’s ship was moving in closer, and was no longer displaying their cannons.

A grappling hook of cast iron landed on the railing close to me. My eyes widened as I released the gun I had been holding and drew my _pugio_ instead. Moving quickly, I managed to sever the coarse rope that had been attached to the metal hook. Unfortunately, dozens of others had been thrown.

Blackbeard was about to try to board us! Cursing like a sailor, I moved on to the next grapple, trying to sever them as quickly as possible. Other pirates were thinking the same thing, but for every line one of us managed to cut, it seemed like two more took their places.

Glancing upwards, I saw that dozens upon dozens of pirates were at the ready on the main deck of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. We were out of time. Keeping myself crouched down, I drew my sword and steeled my nerves.

“Fuck,” Bombe cursed angrily as he crouched next to me, drawing his cutlass frantically. “They’re coming on board!”

“Damn!” Drake snarled. “All hands, prepare for close combat!”

“Captain Drake, is there any chance that we can retreat from this chaos?” Mash shouted as loud as she could, though I could barely hear her voice over the clamor surrounding us.

“We’ll have to find a way! Bombe, get those smoke shells we discovered loaded! When I give the command, fire them off! We’ll use them to create a diversion, cut those ropes somehow, and haul ass. Get to it, we’ll hold them off for as long as possible!”

“Aye, aye, Captain Drake! You five, with me!” Her first mate shouted back, pointing to some nearby pirates. Then all six of them hurried towards the stairway leading to the deck below us.

“Master, get over here, please!” Jeanne called out, her hands tightly gripping her flagpole. As much as I wanted to fight alongside our current allies, she had a point. If Ritsuka or I die, we all die. Sheathing my dagger, but not my sword, I scrambled through the crowd of pirates now gripping cutlasses, hatchets, muskets, and pistols, steel and murder in the eyes of each one of them.

By the time I reached Ritsuka, Mash, Drake, and some of the other support-class Servants, the _Golden Hind_ and the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ were practically pressed up against one another.

“Now, lads! Board her ship, and make sure to bring me both her head and Euryale-Chan! If you touch that darling singer, I’ll slit you from mouth to anus and wear you like jackets!” Blackbeard said energetically. To my horror, the enemy Servant then struck a cheerleader pose. “Go Team Blackbeard! Yeah!”

 **“GO TEAM BLACKBEARD!”** Cried out each of his crewmates, waving their weapons frantically in the air like as if they were at a rave or something.

“Go Team Blackbeard!” The pirate said again.

**“Yeah!”**

It was then that I noticed the two women standing at the rear of the ship. A tall, extremely-busty blonde with a large musket and a small, white-haired girl with a cutlass. Great, _more_ enemy Servants. Thankfully, the duo seemed disinterested in helping Blackbeard, as the insane pirate turned around and started shouting something to them.

“Seems like not everyone on that ship is happy with working with Blackbeard,” I quipped to Amadeus, as the Caster readied himself. The demonic-looking composer grunted.

“As much as I enjoy trash, he takes it to a whole new level.”

Before any more words could be shared, a series of wide wooden planks slammed onto the railing of the _Golden Hind_ , creating a temporary (and rather unstable) bridge between the two ships to enable a boarding operation.

“Here they come!” One of Drake’s pirates cried out. Chiron fired an arrow, and Drake fired both of her pistols, as did a number of other pirates. About a half dozen or so would-be boarders fell off of the gangways they had been on, either dead, wounded, or knocked off balanced by their comrades. The others didn’t pause for a moment, however. They kept advancing like a swarm of ants.

“Me…Kill!” Asterios bellowed behind me, summoning his axes. The Greek Berserker tried to step forward, only to halt as a concerned-looking Euryale tugged his leg.

“Asterios, don’t move in your state like that! You’re already injured!”

“…Ugh…” Asterios huffed, but complied with his friend’s request/demand, de-spawning his axes.

Looking back ahead, I saw the chaotic mess of brawling that had erupted. The two sides lacked any uniform level of distinction, making it hard to tell friend from foe. Blood started to spread across the deck as pirates from both sides began crying out and falling. The wounded ran the risk of being trampled, if their assailants didn’t go ahead and finish them off, that was.

In other words, it was like peeking into the depths of hell for Ritsuka and I. My fellow Master began breathing in rapidly, hyperventilating as his face turned a sickly green. I placed my empty hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Even I was a bit sickened by the sheer bloodshed we were witnessing, just as I had been during the final battle between Nero’s forces and those of the United Empire.

The more combat-oriented Servants threw themselves into the fray, slowly pushing the allied pirates towards the rear and focusing on defeating Blackbeard’s followers. It was extremely difficult to follow or describe the carnage now.

“Hey! Don’t overexert yourself, old hag!” Blackbeard hollered, hanging from the rigging of the main mast of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Drake shot him a murderous glare after slamming the butt of an empty pistol into the face of one of his pirates, breaking the nose with a sickening crack. “If you behave and hand over that Holy Grail of yours, we’ll let you go, yeah?”

“Holy Grail?” Drake repeated, eyes narrowed.

“They know about the Holy Grail Drake reclaimed?” Mash said, stepping back slightly.

“Hey, are you going to hand over the Grail or not?” Blackbeard shouted impatiently.

“Shut up!” Drake said, pointing a finger at her nemesis. “Keep your trap shut!”

“Scary, scary! LOLOLOLOL!” My own eyes narrowed as I noticed the figure approaching the gangplank near Blackbeard. No way…

“Gigigigigi!” Eric Bloodaxe bleated rather demonically. Even from the distance between us, I could see the bloodlust shining in his eyes. “Kill! This time, kill for sure!”

“…Eric Bloodaxe? How?” Mash demanded in disbelief, her eyes wide.

“ _W-We already defeated him, right?!?”_ Doctor Roman shouted over Mash’s open commlink. _“We even verified that he vanis—”_

“He vanished, like Caligula did when he was recalled by either Romulus or the traitor,” I interrupted grimly, gripping my sword tightly. Mordred hurried over to my side, her armor covered in places by blood, though thankfully none of her own. She must have already noticed the not-so-dead Berserker, for her slight, armored frame began shaking slightly, indicating her levels of anger she was now experiencing.

“ _Th-That’s right,”_ Roman stammered after a split second. _“There was a turbulence in the magical energies that shape the Servant. If so…then he’s a Servant summoned by Blackbeard!”_

“A Servant summoning another Servant…is that even possible, Doc?” Ritsuka asked anxiously. Next to him, Mash’s jaw dropped open.

“And by _Blackbeard_ , no less?!?” She coughed awkwardly as her shouting drew a number of stares towards us. When she resumed speaking, she sounded more composed. Business-like. “Perhaps he has the other Holy Grail in his possession? The one left behind by Lev?”

“Go get them, Mistah Bloodaxe!” Blackbeard crowed encouragingly, drowning out any response Roman might have offered. His apparent subordinate having received permission, the Nordic Berserker crouched down slightly, before suddenly jumping forward. To my shock and horror, he landed right before us, having cleared the entire brawl in a single leap. Eric turned to look at a now-frightened Euryale, and took a step towards her, brandishing his massive battle-axe that gave him his epithet.

“Bloooooooooooooooood!” He roared, and Euryale flinched. Then she was obscured as her friend and self-appointed bodyguard pushed her behind him.

“Di…e!” Asterios roared, summoning his axes.

“Asterios, no, don’t!”

“Stand aside, big guy,” Mordred growled angrily, not so gently shoving Asterios to the side as crimson lightning began to crackle off of her body. “I thought I killed you once. The least you can do to show respect to a Knight of the Round Table is to _stay dead_!”

“You!” Bloodaxe snarled, stabbing his weapon at Mordred. “Killll!” And with that, the enemy Berserker charged headlong towards my knight.

* * *

Mordred’s eyes narrowed as her gauntlets clinked lightly, clutching the hilt of her stolen sword, Clarent, tightly. It was the second time today that she was fighting against a Berserker in a field of battle that required her to fight at a reduced level. Even as Mash positioned herself behind the knight to guard the two Masters of Chaldea, Mordred knew that she was still limited.

One of the last things anyone wanted was for the Knight of Rebellion to split the ship they were on in twain, after all. Still, she had defeated Eric Bloodaxe once. She damn well would do so again. To let him live now would make her the laughingstock of Sabers everywhere!

Mordred exhaled slowly, waiting for Eric to commit to his line of attack before reacting. Normally, she’d consider dodging to the side at the last second, and then slash Clarent across the unprotected back of the unarmored Berserker. However, doing so would put the others, especially Jacob at risk, and that was unacceptable.

With a roar, Bloodaxe raised his namesake weapon over his head, swinging it downwards with a cruel, vicious smile on his lips. She caught the jagged edge with her sword, and a shower of sparks danced between the Saber and her foe. Activating her Mana Burst ability, she pushed against Eric’s weapon with her own, catching him off-guard before slamming a sabaton into his midriff.

Spittle splattered against her helmet, though thankfully none of it slipping through the eye slits, as her attack both drove the air out of Bloodaxe’s lungs and also sent him skidding backwards. He hadn’t even come to a halt before she shot forward.

Anger and determination fueling her movements further, the Knight of Rebellion unleashed a flurry of stabs, slashes, kicks, and punches, slowly but surely overwhelming the Berserker. The duel, if one were to use that word generously, was over almost as soon as it had begun.

With a feral shout, Mordred swung Clarent hard enough to knock the axe out of her opponent’s hands. Taking full advantage of the moment of shock the Berserker was experiencing, she closed the gap with another activation of her Mana Burst ability and thrusted her sword through his abdomen.

Wanting to make sure that the wound was fatal, however, she didn’t leave it at that. With a loud grunt, the blonde knight dragged her sword still deeply-embedded in Bloodaxe’s body, upwards, not stopping until she sliced his heart in half, and fatally damaged his Saint Graph. Eric glared at her with pure hatred, blood dribbling down his chin as he coughed.

“…Kill…you…kill…you…Damn…Get…Holy…Grail…” Eric’s face then went slack, his eyes closing, and he vanished once more. This time, however, it was in the proper way, amidst a bright cloud of golden dust.

“And stay dead!” Mordred said rather viciously.

“Doctor?” Shieldy asked. Normally, Mordred would have felt offended by the small gesture of doubt, but considering what had happened last time, it was understandable.

 _“Alright! He’s gone for sure this time! Mordred has defeated Eric Bloodaxe!”_ Doc Roman said joyfully. The taste of victory quickly turned sour as she heard that loon of a Servant laughing.

“Hohohohoho! It’s too soon to be happy! LOLOLOLOL! Eric Bloodaxe was the _lowest_ rank among us Blackbeard Pirates!” The enemy paused, and then frowned slightly. “Honestly, perhaps I should thank you, Knighty! Mistah Eric smelled bloody all over, his armpits reeked, and I think his feet were greasy! There was nothing good about him at all!”

She pointed her sword towards him, grinding her teeth. Does this idiot not have an off switch? Behind her, Jacob groaned loudly. “Looked in the mirror recently?” Despite the current situation, she couldn’t help but snicker softly at her partner’s remark.

She looked over her shoulder, but as she did so, she noticed a metallic glint heading towards the group behind her. Or rather, towards someone in particular. Her eyes widened as a feeling she loathed flooded her body.

Fear.

“JACOB!”

* * *

“JACOB!”

The last time I heard Mordred call out my name, or addressed me in that same tone, I had been on the brink of being killed. I looked ahead, towards the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_.

My eyes widened as suddenly a midnight-black spear with a golden, sword-like tip shot towards me at the same time. There was no time to either dodge or draw my sword or dagger to try and deflect the sudden thrust.

“Don’t you dare you bastard!” Mordred roared suddenly, throwing her sword towards me. With just milliseconds before I was impaled, the mass known as Clarent slammed into the spear just below the cross guard, causing the weapon to fly past me. Though, I wasn’t unharmed.

“Fuck!” I cursed as part of my uniform was cut open on my left upper arm. As I fought to ignore the instant flaring of pain, and the wetness of blood weeping out, I could tell that it was just a flesh wound. Both Clarent and the lance dissolved in gold as Mordred shot in front of me, Clarent reappearing in her hands.

Looking over her, I could see the owner of the spear who had just tried to skewer me like a hog. A middle-aged man with a beard and brown hair shook his head sadly. He was dressed in green clothing of some sort, and with a black mantle draped over his shoulders. He had a lazy air about him, completely in contrast to the speed and ferocity that he had hurled his weapon. I didn’t need Doctor Roman to tell me that this was a Servant. Judging by his weapon, a Lancer, no doubt.

“You’re dead meat,” Mordred hissed angrily. The man clucked his tongue, shaking his head sadly as he planted the butt of his weapon onto the deck, and leaned against the iron shaft, a lazy smile gracing his lips.

“And you have a sharp eye. Didn’t let your guard down, even while talking. Good knight, good knight,” the Servant said lazily, nodding his head slightly. I watched as the newcomer shrugged apologetically as he continued speaking. “I know it might come across as distasteful, but I thought that it would be easier if we killed one or both of the Masters as soon as possible.” I gritted my teeth. Even though he had tried to kill me, it was a sound plan on his behalf.

If it wasn’t for Mordred, it would have worked, too.

“Cowardly bastard,” Mordred sneered. The Lancer shrugged off the insult easily, eyes glancing to the side to see that the brawl was slowing down. Apparently, Blackbeard had decided to stop sending in waves upon waves of his pirates into the brawl. Those who were left were rapidly being finished off.

“Tell me, knight, what is your name?”

“Mordred, son of King Arthur. It will be the last name you will hear,” she said murderously. The sides of Clarent shifted, and my eyes widened as I realized she was getting ready to begin unleashing her Noble Phantasm. Oh crap, she was _extremely_ angry! The Lancer, unbothered by the surge of magical energy being channeled before him, straightened upright, resting his lance against his shoulder as he looked over his shoulder.

“Mordred…hmm, very well. Sadly, I must go. Don’t worry, though. We’ll meet again. Do your best when that happens,” the Servant said cheerfully, before making his way back to the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ , managing to cross it just as the last few members of Blackbeard’s boarding party were wiped out.

“Bastard!” Mordred seethed, before breaking off from deploying her Noble Phantasm. She looked at me and walked over, but said nothing. I wanted to ask if she was okay, but I already knew the answer. Talking would have to wait later.

Drake sneered at Blackbeard’s direction, before turning towards her eager crew. Thankfully, it looks like the losses on our side were comparatively light compared to those of Blackbeard. The pink-haired pirate breathed in deeply before shouting once more from the top of her lungs.

“This is it, you scallywags! Fire the smoke, now, and cut those cables!” The _Golden Hind_ bucked violently to the side once again, and before the railing was obscured by a cloud of choking white smoke, I saw the gangplanks being thrown off, and Bombe and some of the other pirates who weren’t seriously injured hacking away at the remaining grapples.

“All right! Set sail!” Drake instructed, shouting at the top of her lungs still. “Helmsman, hard to starboard! Get as much distance from that bastard as possible!”

“Aye, Aye!”

“My ship is faster compared to that bulky ship,” Drake explained rapidly to Ritsuka and I. I nodded my head, sheathing my sword before gripping my injured arm. The wound may, at worst scar, but damn, if it wasn’t bleeding like a busted pipe! The wound was made to look worse by the mere fact that the dress shirt of Chaldea’s uniform was a pristine, snow white, making the blood all the more prominent.

If it wasn’t for the surge of adrenaline being pumped into my body, I’d doubt I’d be fully conscious after what is now my most intense near-death experience. Yes, this hadn’t been the first time a Servant tried to kill me, but this was the first time I had been directly injured by one. I knew I was going to feel something about it later, but that would be afterwards.

“Master!” Jeanne cried out in alarm, the blonde girl rushing over, her long ponytail dancing behind her. She grabbed my injured arm and ripped a portion of her skirt off, tying it around the injury before I could even have a moment to protest. Mordred, though silent, was standing close by my side.

Meanwhile, I could see that the _Golden Hind,_ after finishing its sharp turn to the right, was quickly putting distance between us and the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. The taste of defeat (for that was what this skirmish had ended for us) cast a bitter silence over everyone on the main deck. I spared one last look at our nemesis, and my eyes widened as the tall blonde woman from early was now standing by the bow of Blackbeard’s ship. Her musket was unslung, and it appeared to be pointed at us.

A second later, she was obscured by a cloud of blinding white smoke. Next thing I know, I was sprawled out on my back, along with at least half of my companions, be they Servants or regular old pirates.

“Ugh,” Drake groaned as she pushed herself back up, one hand pressing against her temple. “What happened?” One of her followers rushed over to the stern, bending over the railing. Whatever he found wasn’t good, for I could hear raw panic in his voice as he shouted back a report.

“Seems like there was some kind of explosion in the rear, near the rudder! There’s a hole right at the waterline. We’re starting to take on water!”

“What?!?” Drake roared angrily.

“Impossible!” Mash added breathlessly.

“Not if a Servant did it,” Ritsuka said grimly, shaking his head slightly as he re-oriented himself. So, it seems that my hunch that the two woman I had seen earlier by the insane pirate was correct.

“Damnit,” Drake cursed with a scowl. “We’re slowing down. They’ll can now catch up to us. No, wait, we’ll sink before that!” Drake cracked her knuckles loudly, steeling her nerves as she breathed in deeply. “I’ll go fix the hole below! The rest of you, keep the _Hind_ balanced!”

“That’s unreasonable, Boss! You’ll die doing so!” Bombe roared with his own intensity of anger. “Everybody, stop her!” He said, trying to countermand the orders of his superior by tackling her from behind. Letting out a startled yelp, Drake was thrown off-balance by the weight of Bombe, though she managed to stand upright as more of her comrades rushed towards her, dogpiling onto her.

“Hey, let me go, you idiots! This is mutiny!” Drake spluttered angrily, struggling to escape the mass of bodies now trapping her. “If I don’t go, who will—”

“Asterios?!?” Euryale’s shout of panic drowned out the rest of Drake’s sentence. Looking towards her, I just saw a large splash, as well as the absence of the Greek Berserker who had been sticking close to her side all this time. Putting two and two together, I rushed towards the railing, craning my neck to see Asterios swimming towards the rear.

Quickly reaching the damaged area of the ship, I felt the ship jolt and shudder slightly. I fell down onto my hands and knees. Mordred gripped my right shoulder tightly, protectively, while Mash gasped loudly.

“The ship…Asterios is lifting it up?” She said in an awe-struck tone. Drake hurried over to the stern, looking down before laughing rather hysterically.

“We’ve recovered! Okay, drop all the remaining smoke shells behind us, now! Go, go, go!” Soon, a large smoke screen was laid down, and we started to lose sight of Blackbeard and his cronies. Drake shook a fist in the direction of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge,_ and I could swear that a vein was bulging and pulsating violently by the pirate’s right temple.

“You said you’re Blackbeard, right?” She snarled. “Someday! For sure! No matter what! At all costs! I’ll take your head and tie it to my bow! Remember it, idiot! Dumbass! You—” Drake shouted something guttural and unintelligible. “I’ll make sure to get my revenge on youuuuuuu!!!!”

Her final words delivered, she looked back ahead, and we continued to rapidly depart from the scene. This wasn’t a true defeat, I kept telling myself as I tried not to sulk. This was just a strategic withdrawal. We needed to get to that island Drake had been telling us, and take shelter there for a day, maybe two. Use that time to repair her ship, regroup, and come up with a better plan.

This was only a setback. “Let’s get to that island at full speed,” I quietly suggested, and Drake nodded, barking out orders as we resumed our odyssey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Man, this was quite a scene to type, that's for sure! How did it come out, did you enjoy it? Also, looks like Hektor is going to be a dead man now, huh? Of course, seeing as how Mordred isn't yet good with the whole feelings concept, I'm sure that she is going to handle watching her Master and lover almost get killed fairly well, right? Right? Also, we finally have a Master getting injured! Yay for no more true plot armor stuff! XD
> 
> Also, a number of commenters made jokes about Americans and guns. Simply put, if there had been a crossbow or bow or arrow, Jacob would have used it to. Contrary to common belief, guns aren't always everything in an American's life :P Also, honestly, the fact that he had managed to hit Blackbeard at all should be considered impressive lol. Maybe I should have had him use an ice spike instead? :P (FYI I'm not angry or anything, just rambling really lol)
> 
> So, who is ready to see me try to salvage the scenes with Artemis and Orion as best I can? I managed to do it with Blackbeard, so maybe it will work? (Insert doubtful look emoji). Guess I'll just have to wait and see, huh?
> 
> Also, happy belated Valentine's Day!
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up, for my fellow FGO players, who was your most favorite and least favorite chocolate lines of the Valentine's Event? Second question is this: What's the worst weather event you've ever had to deal with? (e.g. for me it would be a tornado that touched down half a mile from where I was)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave your thoughts, opinions, and all that jazz, and I can't wait to read it! Hope y'all have a great day, and see you in the next chapter!


	64. Regrouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a humilating defeat at the hands of Blackbeard, our intripd band of heroes take some time to regroup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another update! Not much to say, other than to enjoy!

The bleeding had finally stopped by the time we reached the next island. The area alternated between throbbing and itching, but after the first hour or so, I was finally able to more or less ignore that source of discomfort.

Both Marie and Medea had offered to try to speed up the healing of the injury once we were far enough away from the site where we last saw the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. I had insisted, however, on the two to use their abilities first on those most injured of Drake’s crew. By the time they had managed to do so, they were rather drained.

Therefore, I was informed that I would have to wait until tomorrow to get my arm fully healed, though not without any scars. I shrugged off the last piece of information. Sure, I’d have rather not experienced the near-death aspect of it, but it was something I would bear with pride. In the meantime, though, my arm would be in a makeshift sling. My now-ruined dress shirt was tied around my waist, leaving my top covered only by a thin yet durable black t-shirt.

Sadly, Mordred was giving me the silent treatment, even as she stood close to my side. I watched the beach getting closer and closer.

“Damn it, this is as far as she can go. All hands, brace for impact!” Drake called out. I reached out to grab something, anything, to keep me standing on two feet, but a metal-clad hand wrapped itself tightly around my waist, and Mordred pulled me close to her. I blinked, startled, but before I could ask what the heck she was doing, the _Golden Hind_ shuddered violently, lurching forward like a drunkard wandering home from the bar.

Drake and her helmsman had successfully beached the ship. The final vibrations had hardly subsided when a certain gorgon rushed towards the side of the ship, slamming her small palms on the top of the wooden railing with a frantic air about her.

“Asterios! Where’s Asterios?” Euryale cried out, a hint of panic in her voice. Not waiting for anything, the Greek Archer jumped off of the main deck, landing on the soft sand of the beach underneath. I wriggled my way out of Mordred’s proactive grip, and made my way over to the railing, as one of Drake’s pirates lowered a rope ladder down the side to facilitate for a safer means of boarding and disembarking from the grounded ship. “Jacob, Ritsuka, Mash! Help me look for him, too!”

I grunted loudly, swinging myself over the railing and sliding down, albeit clumsily, the rope ladder. My boots sunk into the soft sand, and I jogged over to the edge of the beach, where the end half of the _Hind_ was still floating rather haphazardly on the water.

“Fou! Fou, fou!” Fou cried out, the poor thing soaked in salt water as he paddled by the area where we had last seen Asterios. “Kyuuuuuu!” The critter than clambered aboard a mass of white hair that had two horns protruding upwards.

“Fou found him!” Mash said loudly, and to my amazement, her animal companion started trying to drag him over. Even though the water reduced much of the Berserker’s weight, he still shouldn’t be able to be pulled by so small a creature.

“I’ll help!” Drake said, rather than offered, wading hurried through the water and hooking an arm around the floating Asterios. “Ugh, why is he so heavy?!?” I looked up with my brow furrowed.

“Lu Bu!” I called out, and the Chinese Berserker leapt off the main deck and landed next to me with a low, grumbling roar. “Assist Drake,” I instructed the Servant. He nodded with another rumble, and then waded in the water until he reached the other side of Asterios, and mimicked the actions of the pink-haired Servant across from him.

A minute later, and Asterios was slowly shaking his head back and forth, trying to rid himself of the water that had soaked his hair and clothing. “…Ugh…” Asterios grunted, before nodding his head in what I presumed to be gratitude towards Fou, Drake, and Lu Bu.

“Thankfully, he’s alive, but it looks like that wound Mordred gave him has re-opened,” mash observed solemnly. I took a closer look. Having overlooked it at first, I could now see the diluted trail of crimson leaking down his chest from where Clarent had slashed its way through him.

Euryale tromped over and gave her companion a smack on his right forearm, a reproachful frown on her delicate features. ”That’s for being so reckless before making a full recovery!” She said sternly. She took a half-step backwards and looked up at him, hands on her hips. “What kind of moron keeps swimming while carrying a _galleon_! You dummy!” Despite her insults, I could tell that the petite gorgon was extremely relieved to see that her friend/bodyguard was alive and well. To my amusement, the Minotaur looked down at her and smiled gently.

“This kind…of…moron…” Asterios said, pointing a thumb at his chest. Euryale groaned in frustration, throwing her hands up into the air despairingly.

“That’s not something you should brag about! Did you forget about your role of carrying me on your shoulders? Go on, get that wound of yours bandaged,” Euryale said, sticking her nose up slightly and trying to mask the small smile of relief she had adopted.

“Mgh…” Asterios rumbled, almost sounding like a petulant child as Mordred silently rejoined me. I suppressed yet another sigh. Again, I could tell that she was upset, and I didn’t exactly have to be a genius to figure out why. The real question was, what can I do to fix it?

Shaking my head slightly, I (albeit clumsily) untied my ruined overshirt from around my waist, and then handing it over to Asterios. “Hey, big guy, use this,” I said with a lopsided smile. Asterios turned and looked down at me, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“…Huh?”

“Well, this should be big enough for you to use as a bandage. Consider it another apology, too,” I said casually. The Greek Berserker looked me over for a minute or two, before nodding. With surprising delicacy, the larger man accepted the shirt and started to apply it over his chest with a bandage.

“Hm, let me help,” Medea said a bit lazily, as Asterios struggled to keep the makeshift bandage in place. Trusting that Ritsuka’s Caster would take care of the rest, I turned around to see Mash tap Drake’s shoulder. The latter appeared to have been in deep thought as she gazed at the stern of her beloved ship, and the pirate jumped slightly at the contact.

“Hm? Sorry, I was thinking. What’s up, Mash?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Drake,” Mash said, bowing her head apologetically and therefore missing the eyeroll Drake gave her in response to the overly-polite mannerisms of the Demi-Servant. “I was just wondering, how is the ship?”

Drake’s hands rested on her hips, exhaling sharply with a scowl. “It’s no good. Even if we bail out all the water she took in from the blow, unless we patch up that damn hole, the _Golden Hind_ won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.” She turned to Asterios, now properly bandaged up, and shot the Servant a hearty grin. “Thanks to Asterios, though, we can repair her once we find the material to do so, at least.”

“Hm…Wel…come,” Asterios grunted with another pleased smile on his lips. I frowned slightly, however. Call it intuition, cynicism, or whatever you want, but I felt that Drake had more bad news to share. I sighed under my breath before clearing my throat.

“Why do I sense a ‘but’ statement coming up?” I said, and to my grim satisfaction, Francis nodded her head.

“Aye. But we don’t have enough materials onboard to perform a satisfactory repair job. Luckily, it seems that this island also has a forest like the last few, so I guess we can make some timber out of those trees,” she said, gesturing inland. Right where the sand turned into soil, there were mainly palm trees. Spongy and flexible, but not necessarily the right kind of wood to fix a ship with. Further back, however, there seemed to be pine or oak trees. I hummed.

“Before we start cutting down trees, perhaps we should take a small party to scout out the area? No point in risking anyone getting killed by monsters or anything, after all,” I suggested, and Drake nodded.

“True. Plus, I want to ask you guys something,” Drake said.

“What’s that?” Rits asked, and Drake scowled softly.

“How to sink that huge fool of a pirate!” Ah yes, that was an important topic to discuss, wasn’t it? I had a feeling that Doctor Roman might have an idea or two.

“Let’s go a bit further inland first. I want to make sure that the immediate area isn’t crawling with enemies. Mordred, Jeanne, Lu Bu, you’re with us.”

“Hmph,” Mordred grunted.

“As you wish, Jacob,” Jeanne said with that soft smile of hers. Next to them, the sole Berserker of Chaldea nodded in acknowledgment. Note to self: figure out a way to communicate with Berserkers that have a high-enough ranking Madness Enhancement that rendered them essentially mute.

* * *

The serenity of the forest, and the moment of peace, was something I was sadly unable to take full advantage of, burned in my thoughts as I was. I knew that eventually I would encounter some sort of hiccup, so to speak, between Mordred and I when we started dating. There was quite a difference, however, between knowing/expecting the possibility, and being able to deal with it.

Finally, we reached a decent-sized grass clearing, and came to a halt. At the head of the column, Drake spun around on the back of her heels gracefully and took in a deep breath as she faced us.

“Okay, let’s take a break. I wanna start talking about that mockery of a battle we got away from,” Drake said firmly. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, and her scowl was still showing. “There wasn’t much of a difference in the performance between the ships. The real issue was the thickness of their armor. Did any of you guys see any iron plates or something like that? Or was it some sort of magic trick?”

I shook my head. Thankfully, there was still a few centuries left in the West before true ironclads like the _HMS Warrior_ , _USS Monitor,_ or others were prowling around. Even though Blackbeard was from the 18th century, he still shouldn’t have iron plating.

“It may be a matter of the latter,” Mash said slowly. “Our cannons had no _real_ effect, after all. Doctor, please tell us about Blackbeard.”

“ _I have some knowledge, and considering I got it from the archives of Chaldea, it should be pretty accurate,”_ Roman said, before clearing his throat and sounding like he was adopting a more professional tone of voice when he resumed speaking. _“Right. Obviously, Blackbeard was a pirate, one born over 100 years after Francis Drake. As I said earlier, his real name was Edward Teach. Teach was one of the pirates who ruled over the Caribbean. His policy was brutal yet simple. He would kill anyone who showed any form of resistance, but would spare the rest. Based in Nassau, a city in the Bahamas, he rampaged through those waters on his beloved ship, from as far north as the state of Virginia, to as far south as Honduras._ ”

“Beloved ship?” Mash asked. Ah, right, I hadn’t mentioned to any of them the name of his ship. I kept silent, not wanting to steal any of Roman’s thunder.

 _“Correct. It was called the_ Queen Anne’s Revenge _. At one point it was reported that he had three hundred men on board, but there could have been more, of course. It wasn’t the only ship under his command, though. He built up a large fleet centered around his flagship, and thus reigned as one of the strongest and worst pirates of his time. However, he ended up losing his head during a battle with the British Royal Navy, off the coast of North Carolina.”_ Roman paused, whistling softly under his breath. _“Wow, to think that he is here, as a Servant…”_ Mash grimaced, interrupting the acting-director.

“Please don’t say any more. He’s a Servant I’d rather _not_ remember,” she said firmly. Nearby, Euryale nodded with a knowing and haunted look in her eyes.

“I’ve already erased the image of that…thing…from my brain,” the Archer said rather proudly. Drake sneered before speaking her own mind on the matter.

“Yeah, I won’t deny the fact that all pirates are trashy, but he is the trashiest of them all. The King of Trash. That’s what he is,” the pirate said vehemently, and then closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Waiting a few seconds, she finally exhaled and opened her eyes. “Sorry, everybody. I apologize on behalf of all pirates.”

“Eh, there’s always the best of the best, and the worse of the worst,” I said bluntly. “At least you’re nowhere near at risk of falling into the category of the latter.” Drake adopted a crooked smile, her eyes sparkling merrily now.

“Jacob…you’re a good guy….I think you’d be a great pirate!” I felt my cheeks heating up slightly at the compliment. “As a pirate, I can guarantee it!” Mash coughed politely, and we all fell silent once more.

“Doctor, are there any stories that could give us a clue as to Blackbeard’s Noble Phantasm?” Mash asked. Over the open commlink, Roman hummed, and I could hear the sound of the keys of a keyboard being pressed rapidly. A minute or two later, the doctor spoke up.

 _“There are a few. Among them, I think his ship has the highest possibility of being a Noble Phantasm. I was monitoring the magical energy levels during the battle, and his ship gave off some of the strongest readings I have seen in this Singularity. Captain Drake’s vessel also gave off a fairly-strong signature, too, perhaps because of the Grail. Regardless, the_ Queen Anne’s Revenge _was the superior ship back there,”_ Doctor Roman explained. I could imagine the frustrated look on his face. I had one of my own showing, after all, and I wasn’t the only one.

“So, what you’re saying is that my ship is no match for his, period?” Drake asked darkly. Mash sighed but nodded.

“I’m afraid it seems that way.”

 _“Actually, there_ was _something interesting that I noticed towards the end of the battle,”_ Roman quickly interjected. I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Don’t leave us hanging. What happened?”

_“Right before you escaped, I noticed that the signature Blackbeard’s ship was giving off was reduced somewhat. Not critically so, unfortunately, but still a rather noticeable amount. Did something happen on your end?”_

“If memory serves me right, that was the moment that Mordred killed Eric Bloodaxe,” Mash reported dutifully. Roman made a noise of excitement at that.

_“Right! We confirmed that he vanished completely this time on our end as well. Ah, that’s it!”_

“What do you mean, Doctor Roman?” Ritsuka asked a laughing Roman.

 _“Simply put, Blackbeard’s Noble Phantasm is that ship of his. I suspect that it’s the kind of Noble Phantasm that gets a power boost as each of his subordinates get stronger and stronger. That’s why, when Bloodaxe was defeated for good, there was a reduction in the levels of magical energy readings from the_ Queen Anne’s Revenge _. They didn’t appear to recover, either, right up until we lost track of them during your retreat.”_

“In other words, the more Servants it carries, the stronger it becomes?” Mash asked. I couldn’t help but scoff at the idea.

“Sounds like some sort of video or tabletop game mechanic,” I muttered under my breath. Still, this was potentially great news!

 _“Yes, I believe so,”_ Roman said, the conviction in his voice becoming stronger and louder. _“Including Blackbeard, there were a total of five Servant signatures aboard his ship. Now that Mordred has killed Eric, that number is now four.”_

Mash hummed softly, before glancing at a care-free looking Euryale. “Perhaps the main reason he sought Euryale, other than that apparent personal interest he mentioned, was because by having her on board and working with him, he would become even stronger,” Mash suggested aloud.

“But now we know what the inverse results in,” I piped up, a feral smirk on my lips now. “Search and destroy. That’s what our approach should be, once Drake’s ship is fully repaired.” Jeanne frowned slightly, before speaking up softly.

“I fear that it’ll be easier said than done,” the Ruler cautioned, and I nodded reluctantly, my smirk fading away slightly.

“If only there was an easier way to draw them away from each other,” Mash said with a heavy sigh. An action Roman also repeated over the commlink.

 _“Ah, I’ve never encountered a hindrance like him before. He knows nothing, and yet he still disturbs our search for Lev’s Holy Grail!”_ Drake gave off a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of her head while doing so.

“Well, we pirates are all like that. We take treasures from people, no matter how good they may be.”

“Bet you have a great customer service section, then,” I said with a flat look that had Drake’s cheeks flushing slightly. “Still, at least we know that we can overcome Blackbeard. That’s progress, in my opinion.”

“ _Jacob does have a—”_ Doctor Roman paused mid-sentence. _“Wait, I’m picking up a number of life signatures on the island. Several are headed your way….it looks like a flight of wyverns!”_

Seconds later, a familiar screeching roar echoed around the grassy clearing as four red and one black wyvern circled overhead. Well, at least there was no Dragon Witch running about spawning and commanding them this time.

Next to me, Drake let out a low whistle of awe, eyes wide but unafraid. “Oh, so this is what a dragon looks like? It really looks like a lizard!”

“Wyverns aren’t true dragons,” Ritsuka corrected her. Beside him, Mash nodded, summoning her shield.

“Wyverns and a grassy field. Remind you of anything, Mordred, Jeanne?”

“Sadly, it does,” Jeanne said softly, twirling her flagpole as she adopted a fighting stance. On the other side of me, Mordred grunted as she readied her sword, apparently still intent on giving me the silent treatment. I repressed a sigh, noticing the soft frown Jeanne shot at the Knight of Rebellion, and the sympathetic look she gave me.

Unfortunately, I still had to wait a bit before I could use my injured arm. The drawback of insisting on Medea and Marie focus on healing Drake’s companions before worrying over me. Still, I wasn’t going to stand around uselessly.

I closed my eyes and pictured the moisture in the air around me condensing and becoming frozen into shards of ice. With a wave of a mental hand, I imagine the shards being compressed against one another, forming a dozen or so yard-long ice spikes.

The first dragon swooped down with outstretched talons, a bloodthirsty shriek escaping from its maw. The shriek quickly turned into a squawk as Lu Bu split it in half with a graceful and powerful strike of his halberd.

Firing off two quick shots, Drake felled another two wyverns with unerring accuracy. I extended my uninjured hand at another, and about half of the ice projections I had created shot forward. Several red bursts across the targeted wyvern’s chest a second later signaled that the attack had been successful, and the dying beast fell towards the ground.

Now, only the black wyvern was left. I launched the rest of my remaining spikes, but to my dismay, each one appeared to have simply bounced off of the scales protecting the winged beast. When Ritsuka launched several Gandr attacks in rapid succession, a similar result was achieved, and the beast roared triumphantly before it too dived down.

Unfortunately for it, Drake had reloaded one of her pistols by now. Carefully lining up the barrel of the flintlock with the head of the wyvern, she fired a shot and the last wyvern joined its fallen brethren in death.

“Enemy has been eliminated, Master,” Mash reported, de-spawning her shield and stretching slightly. Unlike in Orléans, the corpse of the black wyvern wasn’t instantly dissolving. The blood-stained scales that had protected its body glinted in the evening light. “Hmmm, I wonder…”

“Penny for your thoughts?” I said with a small smile. Mash nodded a bit hesitantly.

“Perhaps we could use dragon scales to make our own ship armor?”

“Huh?” Drake said, blinking in shock. “Are you guys actually planning on fixing my ship with _dragons_?” She asked, sounding more incredulous than dismissive. Euryale hummed, before nodding, a wicked smile on her lips.

“Oh, that’s a brilliant plan. If you process it, dragon scales are even harder than steel. We will need someone really strong to process it, though…” I smirked once more.

“I think I have someone in mind. Two, in fact. Lu Bu, Asterios, would you guys be okay with taking on that task?” My Berserker nodded once, while Asterios grunted.

“Yes,” He said in a clipped tone.

“Excellent! I’ll try to strip their scales immediately!” Mash said energetically. I turned to look at Mordred and Jeanne in time to see the former stomping over to the wyvern in question and stab Clarent angrily into the side of the slain creature, essentially using the massive sword as an over-sized butcher’s knife. Mash paled slightly, deciding that perhaps it would be better to leave the de-scaling to Mordred.

Perhaps that would be enough to let the Knight of Rebellion work out the frustration hat has been building inside her.

“Technical Director Leonardo,” Mash said, waiting a few minutes before the eccentric Caster announced her presence in Chaldea’s control room with her typical theatrical manner. “How many wyverns in total do you think we will need to slay to cover the vital areas of Captain Drake’s ship?”

 _“Hmmm…Well, considering the size of the individual scales, and the potential shrinkage each would experience, I would say about thirty to sixty wyverns should suffice. I’ll have Romani take a little look to see if there’s a nest of them on this island,”_ the first Servant of Chaldea said.

“Tch, that’s no small number,” I groused, scratching the back of my head with my uninjured arm. Mash nodded solemnly.

“Yes, it will take some time, but if we can take out a wyvern nest, then it would only take about a day before repairs are finished,” Mash countered. I nodded back but bit my lip slightly.

“Alright, let’s first finish scaling the beast, and then take these scales back to the beach, then we can go hunting,” I said. Next to me, Ritsuka perked up excitedly.

“It’s like a quest then,” my fellow Master said, and I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh softly at that. Good old Ritsuka, always trying to be an optimist in all regards to the word. Mash beamed at her crush.

“Yes. We make for pretty good adventures, don’t we, Senpai?”

“Hmm, maybe I should change the ship’s name to the _Golden Dragon_ …” Drake muttered absently as, having noticed Mordred had finished de-scaling the dead wyvern, we started to pick up the scales before heading back to the others.

* * *

An hour and a half later, we were back at it. We had encountered several more black-scaled wyverns, and after killing them, had taken care to remove every last one of their scales. Still, it wasn’t in enough numbers to make a dent in the target number Da Vinci had provided us with.

Nor was it helping any with my issue regarding Mordred.

The Knight of Rebellion was in the lead, hacking and slashing her way through thick jungle undergrowth, and we all followed close behind. Mash, Ritsuka, Asterios, Euryale, and Drake all hung towards the rear, giving me and Jeanne privacy to talk about my (latest) dilemma.

“She’s upset.”

“Gee, I never would have guessed,” I said snappishly, before quailing under Jeanne’s reproachful gaze. “Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for. Yes, Mordred is angry. She’s angry because she almost saw me die, _again_ , and even got hurt this time.”

“All of which is understandable, more or less,” Jeanne added. I nodded my head slightly towards the French Servant.

“Aye. Of course, knowing what the problem _is_ , is far different from knowing how to _fix_ it. Normally, going a round or two in the practice ring would help, but obviously, this,” I gesture towards my injury, “is probably keeping her from doing so.”

“And since she doesn’t exactly have the best grasp of dealing with certain strong emotions, she is sort of just lashing out,” Jeanne said sadly, and I nodded. My teeth grinded as my jaw clenched. Damn Morgan. “Perhaps I could try to help out? After all, I’d like to think that I did a fairly decent job the last time you and Mordred had a little spat.”

I hummed softly, before looking the blonde in the eyes. “Would you be willing to do so?” Jeanne shot me a beautiful smile.

“Of course! You’re like a little brother to me, after all.” My cheeks flushed slightly. Heh, getting k(kinda?) adopted by the Maid of Orléans, and dating the Knight of Rebellion. Life truly was filled with surprises of all sorts, after all.

“ _Be careful! I’m detecting two signatures up ahead. One is a Servant, but doesn’t seem to be hostile. The other….what is this?”_ Doctor Roman’s confused voice interrupted the moment, and we all came to a halt. “ _Huh. It’s tiny. Maybe a familiar?”_

“A familiar?” Mash repeated warily, summoning her shield.

“What kind of familiar, Doc?” I added, ready to activate my Magic Circuits at a second’s notice.

“ _I don’t really know. It looks like it doesn’t have that much magical energy to it, however, so I don’t think we need to be too concerned.”_ Euryale hummed softly, and I looked in the direction of Asterios and her. The gorgon was once more perched on Asterios’s right shoulder, as if she were some sort of pet bird.

“Huh?” Grunted the Greek Servant, his muscles tensing slightly. Euryale frowned softly, before shaking her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just had a bad feeling. And also, watch it! With your height, I’ll be hitting my head on tree branches. Please, either duck a little, or hold me in your arms.” The Minotaur grunted softly, before holding her almost-bridal style. The Archer sighed happily. “Oh, yes, this is way better,” she said with a purr in her voice.

“Christ,” Drake sighed with a weary shake of her head. “Comfy enough over there, Princess?” The Servant in question scoffed, sounding offended.

“Princess? I’m a _goddess_.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re all pretty. Can we maybe _not_ make enough of a racket to wake the dead?” I said dryly. Mordred and Jeanne seemed to have noticed it as well, but the forest had gone deathly quiet. Odds were, something dangerous was nearby.

“Please, stop. Stop! Don’t chew, don’t chew please! Not food! Not food!” A squeaky yet distinctively masculine voice rang out in the clearing, along with the snarling noises that I recognized as being those made by a wyvern.

“Sounds like someone is in trouble!” Rits said, eyes wide in alarm and fear. My own face tensed slightly, and I activated my circuits. Once again, I found myself silently thanking Medea for all of her efforts in improving my magical skills.

“Let’s hurry,” I said in grim agreement.

“Yes!” Mash cried out.

“Yes, Master!” Jeanne added. But before either of them could move out, Mordred sprung forward like a coiled viper…if said viper was also covered in crimson lighting. I cursed under my breath at Mordred’s especially recklessness and, along with the others, chased after her.

By the time we reached a clearing, Mordred was extracting a bloodied Clarent from the chest of a green wyvern. I cursed under my breath again, this time in regard to the fallen dragon-creature. It seems that the ones most consistent in staying long enough to remove the majority of the scales were the black ones.

Unfortunately, it seems that the variant was rather rare on the island. Out of the thirty or so wyverns we had encountered already, only nine had been black ones.

The second thing I noticed was the lack of human or humanoid body parts. Nor was there anyone other than us in the area. I looked at my fully-armored Saber.

“Mordred, did you see anything when you got here?” The Knight of Rebellion merely shook her head as the corpse of her slain opponent finished vanishing.

“But, I thought we heard someone’s voice earlier…” Mash said, looking rather mystified.

“I’m not seeing anything on my end. Maybe they ran away just before Mordred got there?” In response, Mash’s commlink chimed, and the Demi-Servant activated it.

“Yes, Doctor?”

_“Okay, so, do you guys remember that weak magic response I mentioned earlier? Well, it seems like it is right next to you. Do you see anything?”_

My head whipped around the clearing. My frown deepened as I saw nothing that was out of the ordinary. Double-checking, I looked up at the sky. Nothing beyond a few puffy white clouds and blue sky. Was it invisible, perhaps? I certainly hope it wasn’t underground.

“No, not real—” Mash started to say, taking a step forward when the same voice from earlier suddenly echoed in a grunt. We all looked at Mash in shock.

“D-Did you just step on something?” Rits asked our pink-haired friend. Mash slowly lifted one of her metal heels. I saw some sort of chipmunk-teddy bear-cavemen plushy. The others all peered over my shoulder.

“Okay, just what the hell is this?” I said with a long sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's Anastasia's doll, right? Her backup one, rather. Totally not a sex-pest Greek hunter or something....
> 
> So, what did you guys all think? Did you enjoy it? Poor Mordred, she's upset (quite understandably) but is not showing a good job at handling or expressing it :( Also, Jeanne's finally admitted what we all knew! Also, poor Mash, looks like she has PTSD, huh?
> 
> So, without anything else really needing to be said, it's time for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: What do you guys and gals thinks of the current CCC event? Confusing, fun....why BB? Second question: What is the weirdest dish of food you've ever had?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to comment and all that jazz! Eagerly awaiting to read your feedback and answers, and have a good rest of the day! See all you guys and gals in the next chapter!


	65. Hunter of the Three Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company encounter one of the oddest couple in the world, and Mordred has another moment of reflection whilst venting her frustrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for yet another chapter! Hope you enjoy, and see you in the end notes!

“Okay, just what the hell is this?” For a few, long seconds, no one said a thing as we formed a loose circle around the mysterious object. Drake huffed finally, and gingerly nudged the plushy with the toe of her boot. After getting no kind of reaction, Drake planted her hands on her hips as she bent down slightly to take a closer look.

“Hm, it looks like a child’s toy. An ugly one at it, too. Even I could saw something better while drunk,” Drake said. I activated my own commlink.

“Doc, please tell me that we’re not surrounding your little magic anomaly….are we?”

 _“Unfortunately, it is. That’s the potential familiar, alright,”_ Roman said rather hesitatingly. Even he, with all the environmental data that he was collecting and analyzing, seemed to be in a mild state of disbelief.

“It really does look like nothing more than a plush toy,” Mash said. I grunted, narrowing my eyes. Something I had come to quickly learn during my short time working at Chaldea: don’t think that anything is as it seems. Hell, for all we know, it could be working off of something like a Servant’s Spiritual Mode, therefore disguising its true shape and signature.

Suddenly, I started to develop the uncomfortable feeling that the item we were surrounding was somehow _looking_ at us. Or rather, at a few certain somebodies.

“…I feel a really creepy gaze right about now,” Euryale said, frowning as Asterios bent down to allow for the small Archer to step back onto solid ground. Mash nodded, a bead of sweat starting to trickle down the side of her head.

“Me too,” the pink-haired girl said.

“Same,” Jeanne added, fidgeting in great and obvious discomfort. Drake quickly looked up with a grimace.

“You as well? So, I’m not the only one, then.” The quartet of females remained silent at that for a few more seconds, and I swear that if someone had dropped a single blade of grass, one would have heard it hitting the ground.

Finally, the stare-off was ended when Asterios roared softly, picking up the plushy and shaking it around rather violently. The Greek Berserker was glaring at the item with narrowed eyes, as if it had grievously insulted him or something.

“Wah! What are you doing?!?” The same voice that had led us to finding the plush could be heard. My eyes narrowed further as I realized that it had come from the plushy.

“Senpai, Senpai!” Mash said in disbelief to an equally-shellshocked Ritsuka. “The unknown object is talking.”

“Talking plushies are rare, last I checked,” my friend remarked blandly.

“Hmm, maybe we should dissect it then?” I said, half-jokingly. To my mild horror, I saw that Mash was _actually_ taking a moment to contemplate the idea. She then gave me a nod.

“Dissect,” she said, before looking back the unnamed object/person. “You’re right, Jacob Senpai. That’s a pretty good idea.”

“No, it’s not!” the thing shouted in a mixture of indignation and panic.

“Are you friend or foe?” Jeanne asked sternly, while Asterios finally stopped shaking the thing. Instead, the Greek Berserker was holding it by one of its ‘legs’. I couldn’t help but sigh under my breath. Once again, the defenders of humanity were involved in a slap-stick comedy of some sort.

“Huh? Hey, that’s my line!” Asterios growled menacingly, and the thing somehow managed to gulp nervously. “I’m sorry. I think we can be friends. We have no intention of harming you.”

“We?” I said. Before it could reply, I heard the sound of branches being broken underfoot, coming from up ahead. Instinctively, our Servants quickly summoned their weapons and assumed defensive positions around us. I held my breath as a white woman with pristine white hair stumbled into the clearing. All of my instincts were screaming that she was a Servant as I quickly made some observations of her.

The newcomer was tightly gripping a bow that was crackling with magical energy of an intensity that seemed to dwarf even Mordred’s Noble Phantasm. She was dressed in some sort of white material that I originally thought was trimmed with some sort of archaic red fabric, before realizing that it was an untanned animal skin. Perhaps a stag or a bull? Her pale, blue eyes were blazing with anger as she shouted angrily, drawing her bowstring with a notched arrow already in place.

“Servant!” Mash called out, rather needlessly, as she jumped in front of Ritsuka, while Mordred and Jeanne did the same with me. Still dangling upside down from Asterios, the unknown thing somehow began waving its upper appendages frantically.

“Wait! They’re not enemies!” The voice said, before it made a startled noise of some sort. “Pugyuru?!?” It went as the female Servant (no doubt of the Archer class) launched her arrow. To my shock, the plushy was yanked out of Asterios’s fist before being impaled against a tree with an arrow lodged in his neck.

I blinked, my alarm turning into abject confusion as my gaze shifted rapidly from the impaled familiar to the Servant in rapid succession. I was also starting to feel the urge to throw my arms up in the air and scream my frustration but managed to squash that possibility.

The (apparently crazy) Servant stomped past us, her gaze focused on the plushy. “Did you cheat on me _again_ , _darling_?!?” She said, her teeth tightly clenched. “Despite! Having! _ME_!?!” Now within arm’s reach of her companion (I think? Lover? Magically powered sex toy?!?), she violently yanked it free of the arrow, tightly clenching the offending thing. “I’m at the limit of my patience! Come on, it’s time to punish you! _Again_!”

“What? How am _I_ the first one to get hit?” The Servant raised the thing threateningly over her head. “Wait! Wait! There’s been a misunderstanding! I really was staring at their breasts and legs, but…I’m sorr—Pugyuru!” The cry was muffled as it was slammed face-first into the bark of the tree. She started to repeat the action several times, splinters of the tough bark starting to fly off to the sides from the force of the impacts.

“U-Um…” Mash said, looking quite uncomfortable, while Euryale, Jeanne, and Drake all watched the violence impassively, clearly unamused to have confirmation that the thing had, indeed, been perving on them. The unnamed Servant whirled around angrily, paused in mid-swing.

“What?” She snapped. “Don’t interfere in a lover’s spat! It is a civil matter! Civil court!” Not bothering to wait for an answer, the Servant resumed her case of domestic abuse.

Swallowing softly, an extremely nervous Mash looked over her shoulder at the rest of us. Her purple eyes were wide, and she made me think briefly of a confused puppy with that look.

“Master, what do we do now? This is the first time I feel at a loss.” She paused, grimacing slightly before continuing. “Ah, no, when we met Black-whatever earlier, I felt like this too. One bad thing after another. In this era, everyone apparently has a few screws loose!”

“Since when did my life become some sort of a two-bit sitcom?” I groaned, and Rits patted my back sympathetically. Did I somehow manage to acquire Chulainn’s E Rank luck in the past twenty-four hours or something?!? I took a deep breath and counted to five before exhaling softly.

“What’s your True Name?” I asked politely, channeling my inner Mash, so to speak. The Servant paused again, looking at us. This time, her anger seemed to morph into mild curiosity, and she peered at me.

“Wait, you’re a human? Both of you?” She asked, gesturing at Ritsuka as well. “Are you both Masters?”

“Yes. I am Jacob Aronson, and this is Ritsuka Fujimaru.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ritsuka said, bowing slightly and somehow managing to not sound forced. Wriggling out of the now-distracted Servant’s death grip, her apparent companion, name still unknown, waddled over to us clumsily. It looked up at us. After a momentary stare-off, the stuffed animal thing nodded.

“Jacob, and Ritsuka. Okay, thank the gods, it looks like we _finally_ got to meet some respectable humans and Servants. Let’s see…okay, first, this summon is for a Holy Grail War, right? Does that make us friend or foe? Is the busty girl with the shield single?” At that last question, several things happened in rapid succession. First, his (assuming it is a he at this rate both by the voice and unfortunate mannerisms displayed thus far) companion slammed a fist onto the top of his head, eliciting another weird-sounding yelp.

“Don’t go causally mixing questions up like that!” She roared as Mash both blushed and let out a startled squeak. Rits actually _snarled_ softly at the offending thing, catching me and the others off-guard. Inside though, when I had recovered, I was internally cheering slightly. Looks like that stone-head of his was finally being chipped away at.

Shaking my head and clearing my throat, I looked back at the odd couple before us.

“Sort of. We’re here to repair the world by fixing this era,” I said. “Mash, would you mind explaining?” Having recovered by now, and giving Rits a soft, gentle smile, the Demi-Servant nodded. Taking a half-step forward, she quickly began explaining everything we knew, though making sure to not go too in-depth with the more minor details.

When she had finished, the two newcomers nodded. The stuffed animal went first. “I see. Now I get what’s going on, or at least, more or less. Call me Orion, by the way.” Orion….Orion….why was that name feeling familiar to me?

“Huh,” Orion’s companion said softly, tapping her empty hand to her chin thoughtfully. “So, this world is really endless? Eternal?” She asked sweetly. Mash shrugged slightly.

“We don’t know for sure, actually,” she admitted. “Even if this era is, I believe it will still vanish if its outer framework is gone. And if that happens, we’ll be defeated, and if that happens—”

“Human history will end, and we all die,” I finished bluntly. The female Archer’s shoulders slumped slightly, looking a bit forlorn at that tidbit of information.

“oh, poo…” She said with a disappointed sight. Orion crossed her arms, conveying an expression of disbelief, and dismay, perhaps.

“Oi!” He shouted, waving a stuffed club he had somehow managed to summon (because magic). “You were thinking that you wanted to live in this world forever and stuff, weren’t you?” Orion demanded in an accusatory tone. His companion blushed slightly.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, giggling like a schoolgirl, with a pleased smile. “Guessing what’s on my mind…It’s like we’re in love…how lovely~” Orion groaned, dragging an empty arm down his now-battered and dirtied face.

“If I have to live in an eternal world, I’d prefer to die in _hell_.” The woman stomped one of her feet angrily, pouting as she bent down towards Orion, her free hand resting on her hip.

“Fucking Christ almighty…” Drake cursed under her breath, and I nodded towards her mutely. I wanted to run away from this train wreck of a duo, and yet, I wanted to stay, morbidly fascinated with this…scene.

“Ritsuka Senpai, Jacob Senpai,” Mash said, and we looked at her. “Those two people…or is it one person and one thing? Anyways, there’s something _weird_ about their relationship,” Mash said.

“That’s one way of putting it,” I added dryly as the two continued bickering. I waited for a moment for Mordred to laugh or add a snappy comment of her own, but it didn’t happen, and I repressed another sigh. God damn it…

“What is it?” The unnamed Archer snapped, suddenly looking at Mash. Apparently, the white-haired Servant had overheard our comments. “No matter how any of you look at it, Darling and I are the best couple of the Servant world,” she declared proudly. I blinked. How in the nine circles of hell could she actually believe in those words?!? Orion hummed next to her, rubbing the side of his head with that toy club of his.

“From a third-party perspective, it must look strange for a woman to be talking to a plush toy...” Mash coughed awkwardly.

“I see,” she said, one of her eyelids twitching slightly at the lie. “Each person has their own tastes. With that aside, could the two of you possibly help us?”

“Hmmm, what do you think, Darling?” The woman asked Orion. The thing stared up at her for a few long seconds, before throwing his stubby arms up into the air.

“You ask what I think, but with humanity about to be _exterminated_. We have no choice but to help, you big-breasted idiot!”

“I’m not an idiot! I’m a goddess!”

“Quiet, you useless goddess!” Orion roared backwards, leaping upwards and hugging himself to her shoulder with one arm, while the stuffed club he held was swung back and forth across her right cheek. The self-declared ‘goddess’ shrieked in dismay, trying to pry Orion off her.

“Ah, it’s DV! This is what you call domestic violence, right?”

“I don’t think that this counts as being such,” Ritsuka said flatly, and I grunted, covering my face with my free hand. I can’t believe that I was about to say this, but I was actually starting to wish that _Blackbeard_ of all people was here instead of these two.

“This is too much,” Euryale sighed, a look of repulsion on her face. Ah, right, seeing as how the gorgon was also a goddess, the display of another must not be the enjoyable sight for her. “Someone, please put a stop to this…”

Thankfully, that someone was Drake. Raising a clenched hand, the pink-haired pirate coughed loudly into it, putting an end to the vaudeville act we were being subjected to. Both Orion and the Archer looked at the pirate as she warily eyes the latter.

“By the way, Lady Goddess…what’s your name?”

“What?” Asked the person in question, before exclaiming softly. “I’m Artemis.”

“What?”

“What?!?” Mash said, louder than Drake, and sounding more horrified and shocked.

“Fou?!?” Her companion said from his perch on her shoulder.

 _“WHAT?!?”_ Doctor Roman roared over the commlink. This was one of the twelve gods of Olympus? The all-important pantheon of deities of Classical Greece? The ferocious and cunning Goddess of the Hunt?!? I looked at Euryale from the corner of my eye, curious to see the reaction of the other Greek Archer present.

The gorgon’s jaw was hanging open, and she looked to be in a daze of some sort. I honestly couldn’t blame her. A now-worried Asterios nudged her slightly from behind, finally rousing her. Other than shaking her head, though, Euryale kept silent.

“And Orion?” Mash finally asked. Artemis beamed, picking up the thing in question and squeezing him tightly between her breasts.

“This is my one and only love, Orion!” I finally realized why that name had sounded so familiar to me. The only mortal male that Artemis would hunt beside. “I knew that he was going to be summoned, and I got so worried that I couldn’t help but come as his substitute!”

“ _I, I see,”_ Roman said numbly. “ _By lowering her divinity, it allows for her to be summoned as a substitute Heroic Spirit. It’s rare, but this isn’t the first time such a thing has happened.”_

“Yeah, and because of her, I was turned into this,” Orion said, gesturing at himself. “By the way, I’m infinitely close to useless. I can’t live unless I totally depend on Artemis for, well, everything.” The goddess in question smiled and giggled, sounding rather vapid and further ruining the image I had held of the Greek goddess.

“You can depend on me even _more_ , Darling,” she said in a rather flirtatious tone. Orion just groaned.

“I want to be independent,” he whined. Before another round of bickering could begin, Mash, bless her heart, coughed loudly.

“Then let’s fight together.” I swear that something just shattered. I think it was some of my sanity.

…Mash, you’re going to doom us all…

The two conveyed their consent to Mash’s suggestion, and that was that. Mash, not realizing my internal dismay, continued speaking. “Now, we need dragon scales to fix our ship. Do either of you know where there’s a nest of wyverns on this island?”

“A wyvern nest, huh?” Orion asked, humming as he scratched his ‘chin’. “Well, you’re just in luck, then! Follow us.”

* * *

Almost an hour later, and we had moved further inland. The grass and forest gave way to dried and scorched earth and large rocks. The ground was littered with animal bones, and to my disgust, there seemed to be a fair, though smaller, number of human bones mixed in as well. At the opposite end of where we stood, there was a rather large cave.

“This place has all the signs of a dragon nest,” Orion said quietly as he stood on Artemis’s shoulder. We had gathered around a particularly large rock to both protect and hide us while we discussed our next move. “That cave is their nest, just so you know.” Artemis gave off another airhead sounding titter.

“Darling, so smart!” She said in a sing-song voice. Mash nodded, maintaining her serious nature. Still, by this point, I had noticed that there were some cracks starting to form from Drake’s actions. I owed her a drink later.

The Demi-Servant summoned her shield, and Mordred, Jeanne, and Artemis readied their own weapons. Drake cocked her pistols, an eager and adventurous look in her eyes. “Master, Jacob Senpai, stay here with Orion, Euryale, and Asterios.”

“Okay, Mash.”

“Stay together, watch out for each other, and good luck,” I added, once more cursing my injury. Suddenly, a loud roar echoed from the cave and across the plain, and wyverns began to fly out of their nest in a flurry of green, red, and black scales.

“Okay, Servants,” Mash said rather energetically. “Let’s go hunting!”

* * *

Mordred snarled angrily as she beheaded what felt like her fiftieth wyvern with a single, brutal slash from Clarent. The rage roiling around inside her was only slightly tempered by the violent act, and the blonde knight sneered under her helmet. Her actions were hurting Jacob. She could see it clearly in his eyes.

Damn him. She like— _loved—_ him, but he also managed to make her feel vulnerable.

She hated that. Vulnerable meant weakness. Weakness meant defenseless. Defenseless meant pain. It was a brutal lesson her mother had drilled into her every day of her mockery of a childhood.

A part of her kept whispering reproachfully in the back of her mind about how she was acting like a dumb brat, but she ruthlessly smothered it down to the best of her abilities, the Knight of Rebellion instead focusing on killing as many of the wyverns surrounding her as possible.

The sooner the number of estimated wyverns were slain, and their scales collected, the sooner they could leave. More importantly to her, it would mean that she could finally take the head of the bastard who had dared to harm that which was hers.

Mordred snarled silently as she pushed deeper into the fray. The battle progressed in a blur, as she lost herself in the euphoria of battle. Unfortunately, like always, it didn’t last long enough for her.

Soon, lull of sorts occurred. All the wyverns that had rushed towards them had been slain, and at least thirty black wyverns were waiting to be harvested. “We’re halfway done,” Mash said, breathing rather heavily, her bang sticking to her sweaty forehead. Next to Shieldy, Drake was reloading her pistols, looking equally sweaty.

“So hot, so tired, so exhausted,” the pirate grumbled. “Need booze…”

“The captain is such a slacker,” Mini-Brat said mockingly, looking pristine as a result of just hanging back and watching. Having finished reloading, Drake glared hatefully at the Greek Servant as Mordred watched.

“Well, you’ve just been sitting back here on Asterios’s shoulder.”

“Well, that’s fine. He’s injured, and I’m making sure he doesn’t delay his healing any further.” Mordred rolled her eyes under her helmet, flicking Clarent to the side and flinging off the last remnants of blood from the massive blade.

“hey, hey, Darling?” Artemis called out, and Mordred instinctively scowled. If Euryale was annoying to her, Artemis was nerve-shearing (and yes, that was a phrase now). By Jacob, who thankfully was still safe, the one called Orion popped up.

“What?” He called out.

“Are there male and female wyverns?” Mordred paused, looking over at Orion. She hadn’t considered that topic when they were in Orléans, and while she wasn’t particularly interested in asking, she wouldn’t pass up the chance to hear the answer.

“They have parents, but I’ve never heard anything about gender,” Orion said with what appeared to be a shrug. Mordred’s eyes widened slightly. Parents….?

“Parents?” Mash asked that very question aloud.

“Yes. Their parents are actually not of the wyvern subspecies, interestingly enough. Wyverns are born from their superior species, dragons. I guess that you can consider wyverns to be more of minions than children to dragons, though.”

“So…are you saying that there’s a good chance that a dragon would be close by a wyvern’s nest?” Mash asked, looking rather pale.

“Probably.”

“And if we keep slaying their wyvern minions, will they get angry?” Jeanne piped in, equally as nervous-looking. Orion took a moment or two to consider that possibility.

“Well, they probably won’t forgive us…”

“Master…” Mash said as the ground began shaking slightly. Mordred spun back to the cave. A roar followed, and the thuds began to grow louder. Loose pebbles underfoot began to jump up and down soon, and Mordred tightly gripped the hilt of Clarent as a massive, red-scaled head appeared at the entrance of the cave.

“I think a boss battle is a given,” Ritsuka said dryly from behind them as a full-sized dragon appeared. It unfurled its bat-like wings before displaying them in what Mordred assumed was supposed to be some sort of threat display.

“I have no knowledge about such givens!” Mash retorted nervously. The dragon let out another furious roar, before moving closer towards the cluster of Servants. Mordred activated her Mana Burst ability, relishing in the familiar and comforting surge of raw power flooding every fiber of her being.

Artemis fired a volley of arrows, but they seemed to do little more than irate the giant lizard. It launched a fireball towards the group, and Mash leapt froward. Crying out a battle cry, Shieldy slammed the item that gave her the nickname into the ground. “Lord Chaldea!” She cried out, activating and the cross-shaped shield absorbed the brunt of the attack.

Behind her, Artemis fired a half-dozen astral-looking arrows in rapid succession. Each one landed squarely on the beast’s back, causing the red-scaled dragon to roar angrily and flap its wings while arching its back instinctively.

Quickly recovering from the pain, the dragon fired several fireballs into the air. Mordred tracked the fiery projectiles with narrowed eyes, but before she or Artemis could try to intercept them before impact, Mash and Jeanne activated both of their Noble Phantasms in unison.

The aerial attack resulted in a rather impressive-looking pyrotechnic show but otherwise did nothing to any of the Servants. Closing her eyes briefly, the Knight of Rebellion activated her Mana Burst ability before opening her eyes.

“That bastard’s mine,” she snarled softly, and the moment that the two defensive-oriented Noble Phantasm were dropped, she shot forward like a bullet. Rapidly closing the distance between her and the dragon, she skidded to a halt, kicking up a decent-sized dust cloud while Secret of Pedigree disassembled herself and revealing her rage-contorted face as the sides at the base of her sword expanded slightly.

Perhaps sensing the danger just as a familiar column of chaotic red energy began glowing from Clarent, the dragon roared again, before launching a column of fire towards her.

“CLARENT—” Finally, able to release every last drop of her anger and frustration in an extremely productive way, Mordred swung her sword forward. “—BLOOD ARTHUR!”

The familiar column of raw energy shot out of her sword, slamming into the fire being shot towards her. For a moment, the two attacks were kept at a standstill, each one trying to overpower the other. Then, slowly but surely at first, her Noble Phantasm began pushing back the pillar of fire.

Mordred could see the dragon’s eyes widen, panic entering it. As the wind pelted her face, she felt that familiar, vicious smirk of hers appearing once more. All that anger, rage, hurt, and frustration felt like it was being burned away by her Noble Phantasm, as the column of chaotic energy drew closer and closer to the dragon.

The vile beast began to spread its wings, perhaps trying desperately to take to the air and avoid her ultimate attack. Fortunately for Mordred and everyone else, it was too late for the overgrown reptile. Clarent Blood Arthur slammed into the still-open maw of the dragon, and the head exploded into a rather gory mess. Thankfully, neither she nor anyone else was covered by the various organic matter and blood. The now-headless body twitched manically, before falling down to the side with an earth-trembling thud.

“The battle has ended, Master, Jacob Senpai,” Mash said a few moments later, as the spastic twitching of the corpse died down. She heard the pink-haired girl sigh softly. “I’ve fought dragons before, but it never gets easier.”

Heh, speak for yourself, Shieldy. This was what, the second true dragon she had slain? Honestly, the knight wouldn’t be opposed to fighting against one perhaps a bit more often. They certainly were a worthwhile, challenging type of opponents for her to go up against from time to time.

“Oh, well, at least we now have enough scales now, don’t we?” Euryale said. “I must say, that was quite fun. It’s easy to sit back and see how things will pan out, but it’s also fun to see people struggle up close.”

Oh, so she wanted to see struggling up close, huh? Maybe later, Mordred could give the whiny brat a first-hand experience. Drake scoffed loudly as she holstered her pistols, clearly as unimpressed by the Greek Servant as she was.

“Thanks for that god-like opinion there,” she said dryly, and Mordred couldn’t help but snicker at that. The pirate then turned to Asterios. “You sure got noticed by someone bizarre alright, huh, big guy?”

“Hm.”

“Think you’re up for dragging this corpse back to the beach?”

“…Yes…”

Mordred stiffened as she felt a familiar presence approach her. She turned around slightly to see Jacob smiling at her with relief. She bit back a curse, her mind grasping at what to do.

“Well done, Mordred,” her partner said, and she felt that familiar and heady rush of pleasure at being complimented surge through her body. She wanted to bask in it, to boast, but she couldn’t. She simply nodded, and then turned around, walking back to the corpse of her fallen enemy.

She couldn’t help but notice, and Mordred felt more than just a twinge of sadness and regret, the hurt look that overcame Jacob’s face. Then someone else approached her when she got to the dragon’s body.

“Mordred, do you have a moment?” Mordred scowled angrily at a stern-faced Jeanne.

“What do you want, Ruler?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this? Giving Jacob the silent treatment?” Mordred felt herself bristling at the Ruler’s words. What business of her was it? Glaring at the French Servant, Mordred said that very question to her in a rather pointed manner.

“Well, how about the fact that he is also my Master, and that I care for him, though in a different way than you do?”

“Drop it, Ruler. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No.”

“I’m warning you, Rul—” Before she could finish her threat however, Jeanne crossed her arms and leaned forward slightly.

“Jacob is going to want to talk with you tonight, Mordred. Please don’t turn him away.” Mordred scoffed slightly, but she didn’t dismiss Rulers words. Instead, she gazed with narrowed eyes at her fellow blonde.

“Why are you so damn insistent on wanting to help?” Jeanne adopted a hurt expression, frowning softly.

“I thought it would be obvious by now, Mordred. We’re friends. Or at least, I consider us as such.” Mordred blinked owlishly at those words. Friends.

It was a word that she had heard quite a bit of, but aside from two or three instances, had never really gotten much of a chance to experience. The blonde knight finally just shook her head while rolling her eyes. Jeanne gave her an irritable look, but thankfully dropped the topic. Her arms were still crossed, though, and the Ruler wasn’t budging.

Mordred exhaled violently, glowering at the saint. “You won’t leave me alone until I agree to this, aren’t you?”

“Nope.”

“Great….” Mordred growled, gently pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. She gritted her teeth angrily, before releasing her breath in another violent huff.

“Fine. You can tell the idiot that I’ll talk to him tonight.” Jeanne smiled softly, her stance softening. “You’ve been spending too much time with Marie. She’s rubbing off on you,” Mordred quipped, wanting to have the last word at least. Jeanne merely smirked.

“In more ways than one,” she said, and the blonde knight felt a shiver run down her back. She summoned Secret of Pedigree back into place, and then she turned around before Jeanne could say anything else.

* * *

I waited anxiously for the evening sun to finish setting, and for nightfall to arrive. Seconds had become minutes, minutes into hours, and hours into almost eternity. I wanted to pace back and forth, but I knew that it would eventually end up driving someone crazy.

Medea had unexpectedly recovered some of her mana early and had therefore sped up the healing of my injury. Sure enough, a big ugly scar was revealed when I removed the sling, but I didn’t let it bother me much. Honestly, I really was lucky to have lasted this far without similar types of injuries by this point. Besides, it felt good to have both my arms working again properly.

Having thanked her, I had watched as Drake’s crew, assisted by our Servants, began to set up camp on the beach. At first I had been admittedly worried about the possibility of getting sand in my clothes, hair, and pretty much everything else, but Bombe had quickly explained the way the crew of the _Golden Hind_ used to prevent that irritable outcome. It also helped that some of the tents were being pitched on more solid ground, and that the tents for Mordred and I were among that number.

Speaking of the Saber, that was the source of my current anxiety and overall restlessness. I was overjoyed to hear that Mordred had agreed to talk with me tonight. Still, like so many other things for countless others, it was the wait that was killing me. I had lost track of her when we had gotten back to the camp, save for one moment where I had seen her ad Mash discussing something with the _Golden Hind’s_ blacksmith.

I just had to keep myself content in the meantime that this while silent treatment thing was going to be over soon.

I watched as Drake’s crewmates and a number of Servants who weren’t setting up tents swarm frantically over the dragon corpse like a colony of ants. As it grew closer and closer to nightfall, only about half of the scales lining the headless mass had been removed. Lu Bu and Asterios were hammering away with the ship’s blacksmith, but Drake had quickly informed us that it wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning most likely that we would be able to start repairing and upgrading her ship.

We had nodded and accepted that. We had already suffered a minor defeat at Blackbeard’s hands. None of us were exactly eager to repeat the experience. Therefore, the plan had been decided that we would have our vengeance sometime in the latter half of tomorrow.

That knowledge seemed to have egged on the band of veteran pirates, and when dinner time was announced, it looked like virtually everyone, Servant and non-Servant, was dying to get back to work. I suspected that many of our comrades were going to work as much as they could even in the dark.

Dinner passed by rather blandly for me, but finally it was time. I waited for people to start dispersing before I made my way to the tent that Jeanne had informed me was the one Mordred had claimed as hers for the night.

Pausing for a moment just outside, I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves while doing so. I had no idea how this was going to go, though I would pray that it would be well in the end. Then, I crouched down to enter the tent after announcing my presence and intent to enter.

Mordred looked up at me with an expectant yet resigned expression on her face as I closed the tent flap behind me.

“Jacob,” my lover said with an unusual degree of calm in her voice. The first time I had heard her speaking to me since I was almost impaled. I breathed in deeply, sitting down across from her, before looking into those green eyes of hers.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! With those words, do you know what that means? A fluff chapter is coming up! I'm so excited to upload 66 now lol! Anyone else dying in anticipation to find out how it goes? Also, what do y'all think of the chapter?
> 
> How did you guys and gals think I did with writing Artemis and Orion? At the very least, I hope that you enjoyed the reactions to the various things that I wrote. God, they are.....blech.
> 
> Mordred killed her second true dragon! Party time! Did you enjoy the Mordred and Jeanne moment?
> 
> Now, it's time for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: Who here would love to see Fate/Prototype be made into a full-length anime series and not just that twelve-minute snippet you can find on YouTube? Second question: who was the better villain in the Third Singularity. Blackbeard or Jason?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading yet another chapter of The Will to Fight! I hope you enjoyed it, and I can't wait to read what y'all thought of the chapter and all! Have a great rest of the day, and see you in the next chapter!


	66. Promises in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Mordred have a moment together, fluff ensues, and our heroes prepare to face off once more against the vile Blackbeard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy, another one of those chapters that I am personally rather nervous about. Please don't be too harsh hear, especially for the first part, and I hope you enjoy! See you in the end notes!

“We need to talk.”

How many times had either of us utter that statement to the other, in all the time we had first met? And yet, every time that phrase had been uttered between us, our relationship had always come out stronger in the end.

This time would be no different.

Mordred grunted softly in acknowledgment, but otherwise continued staring at me. I returned her gaze calmly, while inside my mind I was busy trying to figure out who should go first. Finally, I decided to bite the bullet.

“Just because I want to make sure that we’re on the same page, you’re upset over what Blackbeard’s Lancer tried to do to me, yes? You haven’t been giving me the silent treatment and acting like an overall tsundere for something I did?” Because if it was the latter, then this conversation was going to take one hell of a turn into Awkward Town.

Thankfully, Mordred nodded and muttered a soft ‘yes’ under her breath. I noticed the rather haunted expression in her eyes. And honestly, who could blame her? Especially considering everything that I have thus far learnt about this romantic partner of mine. I kept silent as Mordred breathed in deeply, before resuming speaking.

“If I had been a fraction slower, you would have…” Mordred paused, swallowing quietly before she resumed speaking. “You would have died. I would have lost another Master.”

‘ _And my lover,’_ was the unspoken ending to her sentence. I leaned back, humming softly.

“You know that this hasn’t been the first time I was targeted by an enemy Servant,” I started to say, before Mordred made a slicing motion with her hand in the air between us.

“No, but it’s the first time that you could have actually died!” She pauses, and I could hear her breath hitch slightly. “And you would have left me…”

Looking down at the empty space between us, she fell silent, and I watched her for a moment. Right here and now, Mordred was no longer Mordred Pendragon, the proud and fearless Knight of Rebellion who almost single-handedly brought down an entire kingdom while still a teenager. She wasn’t Mordred Le Faye, forced to be a tool to escape the cruelty of her mother.

She was Mordred, a girl, a knight, who had been forced to grow up too quickly. I felt a little bit of my heart shriveling up and dying. Someone who for so long, had fought alone, and only now was starting to open up to a few to various degrees.

Someone who feared returning to that loathsome isolation. And at this moment, there was only one thing I could think of doing to counter that fear.

“Mordred, can you look up at me, please?” I asked softly. After a second or two, my partner did exactly that. Her eyes look a bit red, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from emotions, but she refused to cry. She looked at me expectantly as I took a deep breath.

“Mordred Pendragon,” I said, looking at her with the most serious expression I could muster. The blonde knight stared at me intently as I continued speaking. “I hereby swear, on both my honor and my family name, that we will fix not only this singularity, but the remaining four, together. When humanity has been saved, we will stand together and see the world. I swear this.”

A tense moment of silence filled the tent. I bit down on my lip hard, and soon the faintest hint of a metallic taste entered my mouth as I drew some blood. I saw Mordred begin to lean forward, scowling slightly, and I closed my eyes instinctively.

I opened them again when I felt a light jab to my right shoulder, and I saw that Mordred’s face was inches away from mine. “You better fucking keep that promise,” she said in a stern, almost kingly manner. I nodded solemnly.

Her emerald eyes bore into mine for a few more seconds, before she hummed softly and nodded, leaning back.

I exhaled softly, my body relaxing slightly. My knight still had a wary look about her, but at the same time, she too adopted a more relaxed posture.

 _My knight._ A strange thought popped into my head right then and there. My lip twitched slightly as I tried to resist the urge to laugh. Unfortunately, the temptation proved too strong.

I snicked softly, and Mordred arched a fine eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?” She asked. Taking in a slight breath, I regained my composure and began answering her.

“I grew up hearing about stories of valiant knights in shining armor, dashing in to save the damsel from certain death. I never imagined I’d end up being one,” I chuckled with a lopsided smile. It grew a bit wider when Mordred gave me a confused yet cute look, cocking her head to the side slightly.

“Jacob?” She asked softly. I couldn’t help but smirk at her.

“You’re my shining knight in armor, Mordred.” I then sat and waited to see her reaction.

She certainly didn’t disappoint me on that front.

Her eyes widened slightly as her pale cheeks erupted into a bright red shade. Mordred squirmed slightly in discomfort, and she looked everywhere but at me. “J-Jacob…” Mordred stammered. I kept silent, not wanting to further embarrass the proud knight.

After a minute or two, the blonde girl brought her blush back under control, and gave me a dry look. “That was so bad, I want to knock you upside the head with Clarent.” I couldn’t help but giggle some more at that.

“Sorry, Mordred, but it’s true.” She rolled her eyes, trying to maintain a disapproving façade. Then her lips twitched slightly, and she snorted loudly, shaking her head in amusement.

“Like I’ve said, Jacob. You’re an idiot,” she looked into my eyes, a small, beautiful, honest smile on her lips. “But you’re my idiot.”

“And proud of it!” I quipped with a smile of my own. We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then, almost in unison, we both bent forward as we laughed. The sounds of it was almost musical to my ears, and it lasted for a good few minutes.

My sides now thoroughly hurting (though in the good way, mind you), I straightened up and saw that Mordred had done the same. The Knight of Rebellion looked completely at ease now, and I felt a rush of satisfaction.

Before I could realize it, I opened my mouth impulsively.

“When we retrieve the traitor’s Grail, and return to Chaldea, I want to take you on a date.” The words, uttered so easily from my mouth, might as well have had the effect of a tactical nuke on Mordred. My partner’s jaw dropped, her emerald eyes wide-open.

A second later, her mouth began to open and close, and she attempted to say something, but couldn’t yet quite manage that task. It took her a few minutes before she was finally able to speak properly.

“A what?”

“A date. We’re dating, right?” Mordred nodded slowly at my question, and I then continued speaking. “When people are dating, they go on dates. We kiss, we hang out, and we even sleep next to one another, but we haven’t gone on a date yet. I’d like to fix it.”

“W-What would we even do?” Mordred asked, and I mentally flinched slightly. Shit, she had a point there. With most of Chaldea shut down due to the current shortage in manpower, there wasn’t exactly a whole lot that could be done.

I gave her a lopsided smile instead. “How about you leave that to me?” Mordred chuckled at that, shaking her head slightly.

“Heh, I suppose I can. Means less work for me when we get back, too, doesn’t it?” I rolled my own eyes at her light-hearted taunting, and she just laughed a bit louder. Yes, we were quite the duo, Mordred and me. Still, she had said yes to the idea, and that sure as hell was exciting to me.

Now, if only to figure out what to do for said date…ah, that can be something to worry about _after_ we defeat Blackbeard and retrieved Lev’s Grail. I did have one last question to ask my blonde partner, however.

“So, we’re all good now on this whole topic?” I finally asked, daring to break the now-relaxed environment. As much as I was enjoying this, if Mordred wasn’t at least in some way reassured by my promises and whatnot, then the entire purpose for tonight’s talk wouldn’t have been achieved. Thankfully, my fear proved unfounded, for Mordred nodded with a lopsided smirk on her soft lips.

“Just as long as you don’t go dying on me.”

“Back at you,” I said, half-joking, half serious. Another moment of silence. Well, at least the problem was solved, or for now at any rate. I meant every word I said to her, too. Of course, this issue was probably easily dealt with on the basis that Mordred wasn’t actually mad at me.

Eventually, that would happen, but until then, I saw no point in brooding any further. Besides, I had another issue now at hand, one not involving Mordred or any other Servants.

My eyelids were starting to feel a bit heavy, the events of the past twenty-four hours finally catching up with my body. I barely stifled a yawn, and started to stand up when an iron-tight grip on my right shoulder kept me sitting down.

“Can you…can you stay here for the night?” My knight said with a soft grumble, her cheeks a rosy pink. I made a silent sound of understanding. Yes, we had talked things out and all, but that didn’t mean that everything naturally was good again. Mordred, though she would refuse to say it aloud, was still worried.

“Of course,” I said gently. Catching the briefest hint of a soft and honest smile from my partner, before she de-spawned her armor and left in that under-armor of hers that to me still felt like pseudo-lingerie. Still, it wasn’t exactly like sleeping in full plate armor was a comfortable experience. Even more so if you were sharing a bed with someone.

I crawled under the covers we had been given for the tent, and once she had seen that I was in a relatively comfortable position, Mordred muscular arms linked around my side. I smiled happily at the now-familiar and comforting gesture, and I wrapped an arm around her side carefully.

“Good night, Mordred. I love you,” I said softly, planting a gentle and chaste kiss to her right cheek. She muttered something softly under her breath before resting her head in the crook of my neck, going still once she felt that she was in a comfortable position. As I closed my eyes, I heard something that made me smile.

“Love you too, Jacob.”

Then sleep overtook us both. A blessed, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Dawn came early for the two of us. I awoke to both the comforting, and dare I say protective, grip of Mordred’s arms around my midsection, and the sounds of cheering, shouting, and hammering. I stretched slightly, taking care to not wake up the Knight of Rebellion.

“morning, Jacob.” Of course, it turned out that the gesture, well-intended as it was, was unnecessary. “Glad you’re finally awake. Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?” I asked as we both stood up. Mordred’s armor re-appeared over her muscular, lithe body once more, while I re-attached my belt and my two blades. Mordred was sporting a cat-like smirk.

“It’s a bit of a surprise. Mash has one for Ritsuka, too. Come on.” Despite further questions, Mordred kept quiet, only smirking or saying ‘you’ll see’ to each one.

When we arrived at the forge, I saw that, sure enough, Mash and Ritsuka were already there. Rits looked a little sleepy, but he waved at me in greeting. I returned the gesture with a nod.

“Good morning, Mordred, Jacob Senpai,” the Demi-Servant said sweetly. “Did you two sleep well last night.”

“Yep.”

“Indeed, and a good morning to you as well, Mash. So, Mordred says that the two of you have something for Rits and I?” Mash’s smile brightened further, and she nodded.

“Yes. We asked the ship’s smith to make these during the night. I hope that you two will enjoy them,” Mash said, stepping to the side to reveal two medium-sized objects covered by a scrap of canvas. I raised an eyebrow, but before I could ask just what was under the cloth, Mash pulled it off, and revealed two dragon-scale breastplates.

“Shieldy and I wanted to make sure that the two of you would have some measure of protection,” Mordred said boastfully, her expression virtually screaming for us to shower the two female Servants with praise. And, quite frankly, they damn well deserved it!

The armor looked magnificent, at least to my eyes. The red scales had turned a dark yet vibrant red, and each segment of scales was carefully arranged in a manner that both maximized the degree of protection the breastplate provided without overtly restricting movement. The scales, forged in a way to become almost like thin panels, were sown on top of a thick layer of dragon hide leather.

It felt surprisingly light in my arms as I continued to exam the gift. Perhaps one of the qualities of dragon scales? After all, the creature these had once protected did require to be at least a little bit lightweight in some manner.

“It’s amazing,” Ritsuka said next to me in awe, his eyes shining excitedly. “Thanks, mash!” With no other warning, my fellow Master stepped forward and wrapped his arms around our pink-haired friend. Mash’s cheeks started burning as a shocked, yet pleased expression flickered over her features.

“Yo-You’re most welcome, S-Senpai,” Mash stammered, no doubt basking in the sensation of being hugged by her no-so-secret crush. I barley managed to squash down the urge to laugh at the sight.

When Ritsuka released his friend, mash had managed to more or less bring her blush under control. She coughed slightly, clearing her throat, before turning towards me and gesturing to the side with one hand.

“Mordred also suggested that you might appreciate having these as well, Jacob Senpai,” Mash said politely with that soft smile of hers. Looking towards the Demi-Servant, I saw on a nearby table a pair of splint-patterned greaves and vambraces. Perfect for protecting my limps when using my savate techniques. I grinned at the Knight of Rebellion, getting ready to thank her for looking out for us once again when another voice interrupted me.

“Finished your whole special moment?” Drake said cheerfully, and I noticed that she and her pirates were now just either lounging around or finishing break camp. I coughed and regained my composure.

“Captain Drake. Finished up with the _Hind_?” I asked calmly. Drake smirked, waving a hand towards the still-beached _Golden Hind_.

“Yep. Improvements and repairs have been completed. That armor of yours isn’t the only thing we made from all those leftover scales thanks to Mordred, either. We’ve also equipped a batting ram,” Drake said giddily, sounding almost like a child at that very moment as she rubbed her hands together. I looked at the bow, and sure enough, haphazardly attached though it might seem, there was a sleek-looking scaly projection just below the waterline. “Things are going to get interesting.” I chuckled a bit dryly as I fidgeted with the straps for my new breastplate.

Finally getting the last latch open, I began putting it on. While I had never done something like this in real-life, I had watched the occasional YouTube video on various Medieval topics, and there had been quite a number involving through discussions and demonstrations on putting it on. Once I had done so, Mordred walked over and quickly fixed any mistakes she had noticed. When she had finished, the knight stepped back with an approving smirk, and I gave her a grateful nod.

While Mash did the same with Ritsuka, I turned back to Drake. “That’s certainly one way to describe it. I certainly don’t think Blackbeard would expect any sort of ramming attack.” Drake laughed heartily, hands on her hips as both Lu Bu and Asterios wandered over.

“Ah, good! Tough guys, time for your unrivaled strength and dauntless courage to step up once more!  
Wow, Drake. Skimping on the praise much? Lu Bu gave a single nod, tramping over to the beached bow of the ship. Asterios, meanwhile, gave Drake a toothy grin.

“Uh….Uhhh!” He grunted. Euryale skipped over and quickly looked him over, pursing her lips until she finished circling the Greek Berserker. The gorgon nodded slowly.

“Looks like your wounds have healed. Finally. You really are durable after all. Just like my loser sister.” Not for the first time when she said that had I wonder if she was referring to her older sister Stheno, or the younger and more famous one of the trio, Medusa. “All right, Asterios, go for it!” She said in her usual commanding tone.

Grunting in acknowledgement, the Minotaur jogged across the sand, joining my Berserker. Looking at one another, the two juggernauts exchanged a quick and silent conversation. Then, they pressed both of their empty hands to the side of the bow, Lu Bu on the right and Asterios the left.

Their abnormally large muscles tensed up as they both roared loudly and began pushing forward, their feet sinking into the sand slightly at first. Nothing happened at first, but finally the ship appeared to shift slightly forward, a small wake of water starting to be kicked up.

With both Berserkers groaning loudly, the ship started sliding back more and more into the water it belonged in. When the newly-equipped ram was finally dragged off the beach and immediate shallow waters, we all cried out in celebration.

“Whoa!” A pirate whistled in awe.

“Incredible!” A second chimed in with their agreement. Bombe sauntered over and slapped Asterios’s back with a smirk.

“Damn, Asterios! Is there anything you can’t do? Or you for that matter as well, Mister Lu Bu? We all admire you two,” Drake’s second-in-command said. Lu Bu seemed to have shrugged off the praise, the former Chinese general instead wading into the water before being tossed several ropes and being hauled aboard. Asterios, however, the more expressive of the two Berserkers amongst us, gave a more visible reaction.

“Ugh…huh,” Asterios muttered unintelligibly, shuffling his feet in the sand. Wait, was it just me, or was he acting rather bashful at the moment? Before I could ponder further on that subject, though, Drake clapped her hands loudly. Everyone still on the beach spun around to look at the pink-haired pirate.

“All right, men! We’re officially back in business! Get to the boats, and get aboard the _Hind_! It’s high time we took our revenge on Blackbeard!” The dozen and a half pirates who were still on the beach all roared and cheered enthusiastically. “Don’t worry, lads, this time we’ll be fine! Believe in me, and follow me!”

“ ** _Drake! Drake! Drake!”_** Chanted her pirates. And not just the ones near us, either. The rest of her followers now manning the _Golden Hind_ once more also added their voices to the rowdy choir Drake’s words had gotten.

“Hey, Darling.” Artemis said, looking at Orion, who was sitting on her right shoulder. The Greek goddess had a whimsical look that seemed to be tinged with giddiness. “Let’s do that thing. You know, the whole ‘I’m standing at the bow of the ship, both arms extended, with my beloved holding me from behind’ thing.” I felt the instinctive urge to vomit. Apparently, the odd duo had seen the movie _Titanic_.

Orion scoffed dismissively. “Yep, you can do it. By yourself.” The possessed doll paused for a moment. “Oh, and be careful of seagulls.”

Artemis kicked up a small pile of sand with a fearsome pout on her lips. “You won’t hug me from behind? So cruel!” Yeah, it was cruel. Cruel for us! I turned to Mordred.

“Think we can get away with marooning them somehow at a later date?” I whispered softly. An unimpressed Mordred nodded.

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

“Don’t ask a plush toy for the impossible!”

“Hey, Boss,” Bombe spoke up, warily eyeing the aforementioned plush, one hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sheathed cutlass. “What is that thing?” Drake snorted in amusement, shaking her head with a lopsided smirk.

“It’s a harmless creature, like Fou. Just let it be. Fou is way cuter anyways.” The critter in question shot up into a sitting position on Mash’s shoulder.

“Fou!” He cried out, and I swore that he had a look of utter indignation in his eyes. Mash gently scratched the bottom of Fou’s chin, causing it to relax slightly as she looked at Drake.

“Fou said, ‘Don’t compare me to that,’” Mash said, and as if to confirm the Demi-Servant’s translation, the aforementioned critter chirped loudly and nodded its head as if it was in a mosh pit for good measure, before relaxing once more to the chin scratches Mash was offering to him. Drake rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, before titling it towards the indignant critter in an apologetic manner.

“Oh, dear,” Drake said. She then took of her hat and made a slight bowing gesture in Fou’s direction. “I’m sorry, Fou. Indeed, you have far more class, and flair!” Standing back up and repositioning her hat, Drake looked around. Seeing that we were all ready to depart, the English pirate took in a deep breath before bellowing at the top of her lungs.

“All right, let’s move it!” We all boarded the half-dozen odd rowboats and were soon standing on the _Hind’s_ main deck, as the sails were unfurled, and Drake brought her ship around as we started to head back towards the direction we had last seen Blackbeard and his crew.

Next stop: The _Queen’s Anne Revenge_ , and defeating Blackbeard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! Lotta fluff in this chapter, did you all enjoy it? Sorry if the talk wasn't as exciting as you might have wanted for an angst moment, but to be honest, in this case, Mordred wasn't upset at Jacob. Ergo, I imagine that it would, at least in this case, be rather easy to resolve, at least in the short-term, anyway. Of course, that doesn't mean that Mordred's fears/anxieties in this matter have been fully dealt with, but that's something for later.
> 
> Also, finally, Jacob asks Mordred on a date! Only been a few weeks or so since they started dating, but hey, better late than never, am I right? Also, did I do a good job with the whole Jacob x Mordred scene?
> 
> Mash gets a hug! One step closer! *cackles*. Also, protect your dignity Fou! Don't become like Orion!
> 
> Now, for a more irl piece of news. The next few days, in regards to schoolwork, might cause a delay in the next few chapters. MIGHT. Obviously, especially those of you who have been following the story almost from the beginning, like Zlatz, know that I've made this kind of announcement several times in the past, and ended up proving false. However, instead of the more standard 3 day update, 67 and 68 might be four or five days. Again, I'm not sure if this will happen, but better safe than sorry, right? Plus, the next few chapters, I want to give myself a little more potential time to figure out the exact flow.
> 
> Now that's been said and all, time for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: What's one of your most fondest moments of high school and/or college? Second question: Which of the various demon pillar designs from the game do you like the most and which the least?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and supporting this story for so long and all! Really am happy to know that I'm making at least some people's day more enjoyable with each update lol. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and I eagerly await to see y'alls feedback and question answers! Have a wonderful day, and see you guys and gals in Chapter 67 in three to five days!


	67. Battle Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Company make ready to face board the Queen Anne's Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick update, short chapter, hope you enjoy

I stared ahead at the open sea, my right hand tightly clutching the hilt of my sword. The atmosphere aboard the _Golden Hind_ was a rather unusual mixture of both excitement and anxiety. The former was over the upcoming chance for to avenge the defeat of yesterday, while the latter was over the chance of being chased off the field for a second time.

Next to me, Mordred was starting to rock slightly rock back and forth on the heels, a savage glint in her eyes. I didn’t have to ask the blonde knight to know that Mordred was eager to extract some personal vengeance of her own soon. Namely, against a certain green-clad Lancer.

The thought of him had me frowning ever so slightly. It wasn’t because he had come the closest to killing me thus far, though that certainly was something else bothering me. No, rather, it was the fact that we didn’t have a clue as to his True Name. I had noticed a faint accent in his voice, but it was one I was unfamiliar with.

“You’re very eager to take that Lancer’s head, huh?” I said. Mordred stopped her rocking, turning to look at me with an arched eyebrow and one of the flattest looks I have ever seen, from her or anyone else I have thus far met.

“No, what gave you that impression?” She drawled, and I couldn’t help but laugh a bit sheepishly. A second later, Mordred dropped the look, becoming rather grim. “Yes, of course I am.”

“Just be careful, okay?” Mordred laughed and nudged me, shaking her head with a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry about me, Master.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Drake’s on her way over.” I turned around, and sure enough, our friend and ally was approaching us, hands on her hips. Nearby, Mash and Ritsuka also paused their own conversation, and some of the other servants gathered round.

“We’ll be entering unknown waters soon,” Drake said rather grimly as she leaned over the railing at the bow next to us. “We won’t be able to use the Viking’s map anymore.”

“You don’t sound bothered by that,” Ritsuka quipped, and Drake smirked ferally. She threw her head back and released a bark of laughter.

“Ha! It’ll be like an adventure, so that’s fine!” She paused, and her smile faded slightly. “The real problem is that damn ship of his.”

“Even though there are only four Servants on it, at least so far as we know, that still makes them formidable,” Mash said solemnly, looking troubled now as well. “If we make a bad approach, their weapons will destroy our ship.”

“We’re faster, though. Yesterday proved that quite well. Perhaps we should charge in at full speed? Try to ram the bastards?” Drake suggested. Mash shook her head, however, with a contemplative expression on her face.

“These seas don’t seem to provide many obstacles. That means we will find them from afar, like last time. If we were to have any chance, it would be if they were chancing someone else,” Mash said, starting to sound excited. “They don’t notice us, we notice them, and then…” Before she could finish her suggestion, however, Drake raised a hand, cutting off the Demi-Servant.

“That’s wishing for too much, really,” the pink-haired pirate said sadly. Euryale raised a hand, and Drake nodded towards her.

“How about we shoot arrows before they notice us, to confuse them?” The Archer suggested, her small but surprisingly dangerous bow in one hand, and a cluster of arrows in the other. This time it was I who shook my head.

“That might work, if we were hidden in a fog bank or something. Or if there weren’t other Servants with Blackbeard,” I stated grimly. “Don’t forget, at least one of them has a dangerous range attack of their own.”

“Yes,” Mash said. “That blonde woman with the musket is going to be especially problematic for us. If it turns into a gunnery duel, I don’t think any amount of confusion would truly help.” There was another moment of silence as each of us tried to think up a solution to our latest conundrum. Then, Artemis coughed politely, and Rits gestured at the goddess to go ahead and talk.

“What about having someone board their ship and cause some havoc before the ships collide?” I was (pleasantly) surprised at her suggestion. I hummed under my breath, nodding my head slowly as I worked out the potential scenarios if we used Artemis’s idea.

On her shoulder, however, Orion didn’t appear to be quite as receptive to the proposal. The plush figure scoffed derisively, his arms crossed. “Are you stupid? How would someone board their ship before they can see our ship, and not be noticed at the same time? Dropping out of the sky is obviously a no, so how…oh,” Orion said, sounding rather sheepish and quiet at that last part.

“Something wrong?” Mash asked. Artemis shook her head as she giggled softly.

“I am a goddess, but I was technically summoned as Orion. As a result, I have control over his powers,” the white-haired Archer said happily. Still, I felt at a bit of a loss, and as I titled my head slightly to look at her, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one to feel that way.

 _“Ah, now I remember,”_ Doctor Roman suddenly said over Mash’s commlink, coming to our rescue in his own unique way. _“Orion can walk on water.’_ Euryale made a soft sound of understanding, and I turned to look at her next.

“That’s right! Orion’s one of Lord Poseidon’s sons, which is why you can walk on water,” she elaborated. Euryale then paused, crinkling her eyebrows as she stared rather critically at the plush in question. “Wait, is that the _only_ other ability you have?”

“Look, even I wish I had slightly cooler powers!” Orion said indignantly, stomping one foot down on Artemis’s shoulder, with no effect. “I mean, it’s not even a unique ability anymore, anyways! I mean, what am I, a water strider or something?”

I snorted in mild amusement. “Or maybe a Jesus cosplayer,” I suggested, earning quite a few snickers at my jab. Based off of his body language, if Orion could emote facial expressions, he’d probably be both glaring and pouting at us.

Artemis, on the other hand, cooed loudly as she plucked her companion off of her shoulder and began hugging Orion tightly. Aaaaaand there went the burgeoning amount of respect Artemis’s suggestion had given me. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all sad and gloomy! It just makes me want to squeeze you so tightly!” Trapped in her grasp, Orion managed to turn around, looking at Mash with those unnerving eyes of his.

“Mash, comfort me in your bosom!” My eyebrow began twitching rather violently upon hearing the request, and when I turned to look at my fellow Master, I saw that Ritsuka was having a similar display. Mash stared sternly at the womanizing plush toy.

“I refuse,” she said in one of the most bluntest and unamused tones I had ever heard. Before Orion could try to repeat his act of harassment towards Jeanne, Artemis’s grip tightened even more, and Orion’s words came out as little more than a strangled squeak.

“So, it seems our hand has been dealt a new card,” Drake said, wisely ignoring the antics of the extremely-dysfunctional couple. “Artemis, Orion, I have something I’d like to ask of you two.” Artemis’s gaze shot towards Drake, completely forgetting about her frustration with Orion and allowing for the plush to fall to the ground.

“Oh? What is it, Captain Drake?”

“Yeah, do tell,” Orion added, displaying a rare example of solidarity with the yandere goddess. “I’m excited, but I also got a bad feeling as well.”

“I’ll leave that up to the two of you to decide on that,” Drake said, and then began sharing her plan rapidly.

* * *

An hour later, and the final preparations for the upcoming attack had been made. By this point, Drake’s lookout reported seeing a ship on the horizon. Just out of sight, but appearing to be flying Blackbeard’s flag. I watched as Orion and Artemis slipped over the side of the ship, then looked back ahead as we resumed sailing at a slow but steady course towards the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Euryale, Mash, Drake, Ritsuka, and Mordred stood around me.

Artemis and Orion would slip aboard, with the former distracting primarily Blackbeard and his trio of Servants, while Orion would somehow find a way to, at best disable, or failing that, badly damage the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Drake had suggested trying to set off a fire in the powder room, and while I would have been skeptical if the enemy ship had been a normal one, but it might be the best idea.

Now, though, it was time to start assigning roles to the other Servants. Namely, the ones who wouldn’t be boarding the ship with us. Next to me, Ritsuka was looking up at Chiron.

“Chiron, mind taking Astolfo’s place in the crow’s nest?” Ritsuka asked his Archer. The famous Greek instructor nodded his head. I was both impressed and proud with the quick thinking of my fellow Master. With having such a high vantage point, Chiron would be able to lay down a withering field of fire, all while having an unobstructed view.

Plus, that poor lookout would finally get a break from my Rider. Speaking of Astolfo, I turned towards him. “Astolfo.”

“Yes, Master?”

“Can you use your mount and fly around the battlefield?” The paladin shrugged with a curious look.

“Should be easy enough. Any particular reason why?”

“Try to establish some sort of a perimeter. I don’t want any opportunists to interlude on us. At best, they would get in the way. At worst, though, they might be allies of Blackbeard. I don’t want to deal with a _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ carrying five or more enemy Servants.” Astolfo nodded in understanding.

“Okie dokie. Just leave it to me, Master!”

“Amadeus, Medea, and Marie. Mind staying back with Lu Bu, Asterios, and Euryale?” The two Casters nodded, while Ritsuka’s Rider pouted at me. Before she could ask why, however, I continued speaking, addressing Marie. “Along with Medea, you’re essentially the team’s healer. I’d rather you keep back and maintain your strength to better heal the injured once we finish the battle.”

Marie’s look of disappoint morphed into one of understanding. “ _Oui_ , Master Jacob. I suppose that a horse made of glass would be a bit of a hindrance, too,” she said with a light laugh, which Ritsuka and I both joined in.

“Jing Ke, do you mind trying to see fi you can get below decks and find Blackbeard’s Grail?” Ritsuka asked the semi-sober Assassin. She nodded silently, her right hand gently stroking her sheathed knife. I turned to my own Assassin.

“Sasaki, you will guard the boarding ramps.” The purple-haired swordsman nodded solemnly.

“And me?” Jeanne said, a rather sharp look in her eyes. I swallowed nervously before I continued speaking.

“You will accompany Mordred and I as we handle the bow section of the ship.” Jeanne nodded serenely, quite pleased with my answer.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Oi, what about us?” Chulainn interjected, Gàe Bolg resting across his shoulders. Next to him, Vlad stood in a more regal manner, but I could tell he was just as eager to be given his assignment.

“You two, take out as much of the enemy pirates as possible.” The two Lancers nodded, one maintaining his calm while the other grinned rather viciously, almost like a hungry dog seeing his first meal in a week.

“Are you within range yet, Miss Euryale?” Mash asked, and I turned to look in that direction, seeing Euryale perched on the bowsprit, an arrow notched. The Archer’s nose wrinkled up in distaste.

“Yes. I can see him…unfortunately.” Sure enough, I could make the faint outline of Blackbeard waving at us, or more specifically Euryale, manically.

“So, what do your arrows do, exactly?” I asked Euryale as she bowed back the string of her bow. The gorgon stuck her tongue out slightly, perhaps making some last-minute adjustments to accommodate for the wind and distance.

“You’ll see,” Euryale finally said, reminding me rather eerily of her older sister, Stheno. Then, as I saw Blackbeard waving his arms around wildly by the bow of his own ship, she released the string, and the small arrow was sent arcing through the air.

I watched as the arrow began its terminal descent, hoping that it would somehow break through Blackbeard’s skull. Literally.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. I watched a bit despondently as the arrow slammed into the shoulder of a pirate (the non-Servant kind, mind you) that had been standing right next to him. While I couldn’t yet hear anything, I saw the injured pirate tug out the arrow and stared at it quizzically with an equally befuddled-looking Blackbeard. Not even a fatal shot, it seems. I turned to the petite Archer nearby with an arched eyebrow.

“You missed,” I stated dryly. Euryale nodded glumly.

“Indeed. No, it feels like I missed on purpose, actually. I felt like my arrow would be soiled.” I felt my eyebrow twitch once more at the gorgon. Worrying about an arrow getting _soiled_? As if being coated in blood and entrails or whatnot _wouldn’t_ be the same?

Before I could snap at the Archer, Mash intervened, maintaining that level-headed persona of hers. “I’m sorry, but can you try to aim and shoot him down? Your arrows are disposable. If you and Chiron don’t get him now, the rest of us will have to face that…’Servant’…in close combat.” Euryale pouted.

“I know. However, in all honesty, it’s actually better in the long run if I hit someone else that’s nearby.”

“What do you mean by that, exactly?” I asked, my frustration replaced with curiosity. Euryale smirked rather sinisterly, daintily gesturing for us to look back, just in time to see Blackbeard shoot his subordinate who had been injured by Euryale’s arrow.

Now confused, I whipped around. “What the hell was that about?” I demanded, and Euryale giggled.

“My arrows cause whoever I hit to desire me. In this case, it will be to the point that any of Blackbeard’s crew who are affected will turn on their companions and even their captain,” Euryale exclaimed, before firing another arrow.

I whistled softly, feeling a mix of horror and satisfaction at the gorgon’s words. While we already had the plan in place to disable Blackbeard’s ship, I couldn’t deny that the potential of adding even more to the chaos via the means of an artificial mutiny was rather damn appealing to me.

“I stand corrected, then, Euryale,” I said, bowing my head apologetically. “Please, continue to fire away.” I ignored the smug look the tiny Archer shot me, and I instead watched as Euryale fired some more of her arrows in rapid succession. Soon, Blackbeard was soon busy fighting and killing the crewmates surrounding him.

“Good luck, Artemis,” Ritsuka said as the Greek goddess and her tagalong chose that moment to make their move. I watched anxiously as the odd-looking duo hurried across the waves, all the while remaining undetected thanks to Euryale’s own distraction.

I exhaled softly as I saw Artemis and Orion climb aboard the ship from the stern, where the least amount of hostile pirates were currently located, and looked back to the bow, wanting to check on Blackbeard’s status.

Instead, I saw that the tall, gun-toting blonde Servant aiming her oversized musket in our direction. While I couldn’t be sure if she was aiming directly at me or just the general direction, it was still rather terrifying. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Mash had summoned that massive shield of hers and was positioning herself next to Euryale, ready to do her best this time to block the shot.

“Come on, Artemis, hurry,” I muttered rather frantically, each second feeling like an hour now. Then, our other allied Greek Archer shouted something, gaining the attention of the others, including the blonde. I exhaled loudly, turning to Drake.

“Okay, step two has started. Are we all set for ramming?” I asked. Drake nodded, a savage grin of her own showing.

“You better damn believe it. You might want to hold on to something, though. Never done a proper ramming attack before,” Drake said before calling out for full speed ahead. While there wasn’t quite the rush and noise that there might have been if the _Golden Hind_ ran on steam, the galleon quickly started to pick up speed, aimed directly for the midsection of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_.

Once more, there was very little I could do but watch and wait. When we were around the halfway point between where we had started from and Blackbeard’s ship, I saw that there was starting to be some more movement.

“It looks like he’s about to fire a broadside at us!” Chiron called down, readying an arrow. We couldn’t break off, fully committed to our attack, however. Our best bets were for Artemis and Orion to pull off their role in the plan, and I watched with bated breath as the Servant in question apparently announced her presence.

I closed my eyes as we drew closer, unable or unwilling to stare, in case I would see my death coming. Therefore, the explosion a few minutes later caught me completely off-guard.

I was almost thrown off of my feet as a wave of super-heated air slammed into us. There must have been a loud boom, but I couldn’t recall hearing anything other than a loud ringing noise in my ears. I pressed a hand to each one, and thankfully discovered that neither of my ear drums had been ruptured by the explosion.

I then looked back at the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. What I saw brought an admittedly savage grin to my lips.

Blackbeard’s ship was still afloat, but barely. The main mast of the ship was gone, along with a good chunk of the two upper decks at the center.

I had the feeling that if it wasn’t for the presence of his three subordinate Servants, the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ would be sinking. Still, the ship appeared to be crippled, and Blackbeard and his crew were busy trying to fight the raging firestorm that was slowly but surely spreading.

Meaning that no one was manning the cannons anymore as we closed in on the stricken vessel.

“Brace for impact!” I roared, even if it might have been a bit pointless. But damn it, I wanted to use that line. For a moment, I could have sworn that Blackbeard had shouted something similar, but then the _Golden Hind_ slammed into the side of the smoldering _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ hard. There was a sickening cracking sound as the reinforced wood gave way to the heavy battering ram made of dragon scales.

If it wasn’t for Mordred grabbing the back of my new armor, I would have probably ended up flying into the bowsprit, so violent was the resulting shudder that the _Hind_ gave us. Some of the others, though none of the Servants, weren’t as lucky, though everyone quickly recovered.

Scrambling back onto my feet properly after being released by Mordred, I drew my sword as I saw a glorious sight. Odd though it might sound, seeing the _Hind’_ s ram driven deep into the hull of Blackbeard’s ship sent a shiver of exhilaration down my spine. Mordred and the other Servants who were designated as members of our boarding party were assembled behind me. A little further back, Drake and her crew were also getting ready to leap aboard the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Oh, how the tables have turned in roughly twenty-four hours.

“Well, Senpai, can’t keep Blackbeard waiting,” Mash quipped at Ritsuka, who nodded, a fiery glint in his eyes matching the one everyone else seemed to now have.

“Let’s do it, Mash!” He said energetically.

“Prepare to board, my filthy scoundrels!” Drake called out at the same time to her own followers, waving one of her pistols wildly in the air. Drake’s pirates, especially the ones she had picked to accompany us, started cheering and jeering wildly. “Let the plundering begin!”

“Orders, Master?” Mordred asked, before her helmet reassembled itself around her face. The last thing I saw was the eager glint in her eyes and the hungry smirk on her lips. Looking back ahead, I waved my sword forward.

“All hands, board that ship!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, not my best chapter tbh in my opinion. But the scene was going to be choppy anyway, I suppose, so at least it's done with, right? Next two chapters will have plenty of fighting, I promise you that! Got plans in terms of POVs. Might be another four days before the next chapter, but I have finished all my papers for the moment! I hope you all enjoyed it somewhat though, the chapter!
> 
> Question of the chapter: What do you guys and gals who play FGO think of the BB event overall? I hate it now by this point.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it! See you in the next chapter!


	68. A Desperate Battle, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and company face off against Blackbeard and his subordinate Servants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another update! Not much to say really, other than I hope you enjoy! See you in the end notes

I ducked under a clumsy slash of a cutlass, before then thrusting forward with my _pugio,_ the short but broad blade easily piercing through both cloth and muscle as I drove it up into the pirate’s heart. Not bothering to see if the wound was instantly fatal or not, I kicked the body away from me as I heard another pirate charging towards me, screaming vengeance for his now-slain friend.

I leaned backwards, the blade sliding across my new breastplate harmlessly. My assailant took a second to first look at me, and then his sword, before looking at me, clearly confused about the lack of injury on my body or even scratching of the steel-like scales protecting my torso.

He looked up just in time to see my sword being thrust forward, skewering his unprotected throat in a single, control motion. The blow instantly killed him, and I gave off a soft grunt as I yanked my sword back and out of his throat, leaving the standing corpse to topple backwards, falling into eh inferno in the middle of the ship.

I had a brief moment to regain my bearings, and I didn’t waste it for a second as my knight finished off the last of her opponent in what had originally been a group of a dozen muscular and scarred pirates only seconds ago.

Having refused to leave my side for even a moment, Mordred was fighting like she had been possessed by some sort of demonic entity. Blood and even the occasional arm, leg, or head flew through the air, Clarent by this point liberally soaked in blood. Thankfully, each of Blackbeard’s pirates seem to be the same sort of carbon copy pirates we had encountered before, so it felt less like I was watching my fellow humans being butchered, regardless of whether it was to save the whole of humanity, and therefore a necessary and unavoidable evil.

The boarding action had been a chaotic, bloody mess. Once our feet had hit the wooden deck of the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_ , Blackbeard’s cronies had begun their efforts to repel our boarding efforts, in a clear reversal of what had happened yesterday.

Even though many of the enemy crew had been busy fighting the raging fires, a good number of them had quickly recovered their wits and began putting up a determined, if also desperate, fight against us. Even with three Servants among the forward boarding party, the defenders were putting up one hell of a fight.

However, in the end, they weren’t the true objective. That was Blackbeard, his three known Servant subordinates, and the Holy Grail they possessed.

So just where in the hell were they?

I let out a startled yelp as I feel a sensation best described as a punch erupt over the center of my chest. While I had been distracted, a hatchet-wielding pirate had swung his heavy weapon into my stomach. “Jacob!” Jeanne shouted in alarm, while Sasaki swept forward and bisected the pirate responsible with a single elegant yet brutal stroke of his long sword. As Mordred and Jeanne looked at me in vivid concern (even though the latter’s face was covered by her helmet), I made an ‘okay’ gesture with my hand, unable to speak just yet.

I gasped softly, having had the air knocked out of my lungs from the impact. I had a feeling that the skin underneath would have one hell of a nasty bruise come morning, but I’d rather deal with something like that over a gut wound any day. Finally regaining my breath, I looked back up at the Ruler and Saber with a lopsided grin.

“I’m okay. The armor stopped it,” I said in a mild state of disbelief. Well, good to know that dragon scale armor was sure as hell durable! Still, it’s as good a sign as any that I should perhaps pull back slightly. It was the second time an enemy had gotten past my guard. I wasn’t interested in testing my luck a third time, plus I had made two promises to Mordred. And I would be damned if I didn’t keep them.

So, that’s exactly what I start to do, before the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“We meet again, young Master of Chaldea.” I tensed as I heard the voice of the Servant who had nearly killed me from behind. I spun around while also jumping to the side instinctively, though it would prove to have been unnecessary.

Quick as lightning, Mordred inserted herself between the Lancer and me. The Lancer merely chuckled, lazily twirling his sword-spear around as he winked at us. Even with both my armor and Mordred protecting me, I didn’t let my guard down. He had clearly targeted me once already with the intent to kill. I’d be one of the world’s biggest idiots if I thought for even a moment that the unnamed Servant wouldn’t try it again.

“Why does this old man suspect that he made a rather large error in targeting you, young Master,” the Lancer asked with a slight frown, gesturing towards me in a non-threatening manner, though the action didn’t exactly mean much when he could (try to) impale me in a blink of an eye.

I shrugged slightly, unable to hide the slightly feral smirk that was creeping over my face. “Probably because I have a Servant who has essentially declared me as hers?” Mordred barked out in laughter under her helmet. I noticed that the enemy Servant seemed to pale slightly as he almost dropped his weapon.

“Gods of Olympus….you have _got_ to be joking! Twice now?!?” Pressing his free hand up to his face, the Lancer groaned loudly, shaking his head before lowering his head.

“Well, words are of little more use. On guard, Sir Mordred!”

“Bring your pretty head to my sword!” Mordred jeered back, and then the two Servants shot towards one another. I felt Jeanne tugging on my shoulder from behind, and I turned to look at her.

“Master, I think we should move a bit further away from Mordred and her opponent,” advised the blonde Ruler. I nodded silently and we moved a few yards away, closer to the railing of the badly-damaged _Queen Anne’s Revenge_.

Once there, I resumed watching and fighting against the remaining pirates on our section of the ship, Sasaki and Jeanne to either side of me as I heard the sounds of grunts, shouts, and metal scratching and grinding against one another from behind.

* * *

“Haaah!” Cried out the short, cutlass-wielding Servant. The blade slammed into Mash’s shield, and the Demi-Servant went down onto one knee for a moment. She grunted as the enemy Servant tried to press forward and break through Mash’s guard.

A shout from behind led to the pressure being released, however, as Emperor Nero skidded in, lashing out with her sword. The white-haired girl leapt backwards at the last minute, and Mash watched Nero prepping herself for a second charge. Looking to the side, however, she felt her eyes widen, and Mash skidded in front of Nero this time. She barely managed to slam her shield into the ground before the Shielder was almost knocked off her feet as a shower of sparks rained down as the other enemy Servant emerged from a foul-smelling cloud of white smoke.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Nero was fighting beside her, Mash feared she would have been already been defeated long since she started to engage the two. Even now, though, she felt that victory was far from certain.

“Mary, I’ll join!” The blonde Servant called out, charging over and coming to a stop by the shorter one, apparently named Mary. The blade-wielder, though her mouth was obscured by that collar of hers, responded rather excitedly.

“Okay!” Mash felt some sort of spike of power the instant the two enemy Servants stood next to one another, and she gasped softly. She wasn’t the only one to sense that something was wrong now, either.

“That’s not a good sign,” Nero muttered softly, readjusting her stance as she stood next to Mash. She stared in horror at the two.

“These two, combined…they’re one Servant?” This was a rather unpleasant development. The taller one of the duo smirked rather sinisterly, an action no doubt being mimicked by her far shorter companion.

“My True Name is Mary Read. Class, Rider,” Mary said.

“And I’m Anne Bonny, also a Rider,” the blonde added right afterward, giving a mocking half-bow. Mash felt a pit begin to form in her stomach, for she recognized those names. She started to open her mouth, but Nero beat her to it.

“Umu, I must say, you both have fantastic taste in style and clothing! Especially you, Miss Anne Bonny” Nero declared, nodding her head solemnly, acting in her more aloof manner once more. Mash resisted the urge to grit her teeth. Yes, they were in a battle, but that doesn’t mean that she should get snappish at one of her companions for being themselves, especially not one she respected like Nero.

“Emperor Nero, please focus,” Mash said evenly. The cheeks of the blonde Saber flushed slightly, and she laughed sheepishly.

“Right, quite right, Mash. I take it from your earlier reaction that you know of these two?” Mash nodded, bracing herself as she answered the Saber’s question.

“Yes, they were the legendary duo of female pirates during the Golden Age of Piracy. No wonder they seem to work well together!” She explained rapidly, refusing to take her eyes off of either female Servants for even a split-second.

Anne nodded, pleased at the recognition. Then the musket-carrying Servant adopted a more serious and analytical expression, her reddish-brown eyes focused on Mash. “Interesting. So, it seems that Heroic Spirits of the Shield do exist, Mary.”

“It seems so, Anne. However, it looks like this’ll be a two-on-two battle. Ready to do our usual thing?” Anne smirked ferally as she re-cocked her gun.

“Whoo-hoo! Make me proud, future members of my Yuri Harem!” Blackbeard suddenly called out, causing all four girls to flinch violently. Anne sighed heavily, shaking her head.

“Sounds like a perfect suggestion to me! First to finish her opponent gets to clobber the captain next time he says something stupid?”

“You’re on!”

“Mash, focus on the tall one! I’ve got the other!” Nero called out, readying herself to sprint forward.

“Understood! Be careful!”

“Umu, it’s time to demonstrate to these ruffians that, no matter how equally well-dressed they might be, the skills of the Emperor of Roses are more than a match for them!” Then, Mash’s vision to the side was partially obscured by a cloud of crimson rose petals as the Roman Servant dashed forward.

Spinning back around, Mash’s eyes widened slightly as she saw Anne taking aim at her again. Holding her shield forth, Mash then angled her shield as the enemy Rider fired her weapon. The bullet skidded off of the right cross of her shield with a shrill ringing sound, and Mash pushed herself forward.

If she could close the gap between her and Anne, she would have a much better chance against her opponent. She might have the height and weight advantages still in a close-quarters fight, but at least it wouldn’t be as easy for her to use that musket of hers.

Unfortunately, when she managed to close in on Anne, the Blonde proved to be no less a threat up close as she was from afar. While she couldn’t use her long-barreled musket in its intended purpose, she apparently was more than happy to wield her weapon as some sort of heavy club.

Each blocked impact sent faint jarring sensations up Mash’s arm. Soon, her right arm, the one her shield was strapped to, was feeling particularly numb.

That wasn’t to say that Mash didn’t give as good as she got. In the minute exchange of blows, she managed to land at least four strong blows with her shield. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to prove decisive.

Mash bent over as the heavy wooden stock of Anne’s musket was riven into her gut, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Out of the corner of her eye, Mash saw her opponent then leap backwards, no doubt intending on unleashing a volley of bullets.

Forcing air back into her lungs, Mash barely managed to slam her shield down in front of her before the first of several bullets slammed against the surface of her shield. Unfortunately, she also had lost sight of most of her peripheral vision while doing so.

Something that almost costed her dearly.

“Look out!”

She heard Nero’s warning just in time to shift her balance, right before Mary’s cutlass could have sliced into her left arm. While Anne had pinned her down with that last volley of lead, Mary had managed to slip past Nero somehow.

“That’s it, Mary!” Anne called out, as Mash realized only too late just what the ploy the two pirate Servants had pulled off. The instant she took eyes off of the blonde enemy, the Servant had taken advantage to readjust her aim. If Mary hadn’t finished her off with that sneak attack, Anne would take potshots at her while she was fending off Mary’s attacks.

If she had been completely on her own, that might very well have been the end of her. Fortunately, though, Mash wasn’t alone. From the side, Mash heard the sound of twin gunshots, and a second later, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Anne stumbling backwards, her right shoulder bleeding slightly, just as the blonde had squeezed the trigger of her own firearm.

Mash heard the shot go wide as Drake called out. “You owe me a drink later for that!” Mash suppressed a sigh at the scarred woman’s words. When she had first met the legendary Sir Francis Drake, she had expected to encounter a cruel, greedy, self-centered ruffian, as she had mentioned to her Senpai and Jacob Senpai just before meeting her.

Then, she seemed to be someone who, while skilled, seemed to care little about matters of grave urgency, instead focused on carnal desires. Now? Well, that was still to be determined, but Mash no longer felt that the pink-haired pirate was either a nuisance or a liability to Chaldea.

Mash shook her head, focusing back on the fight once more, just in time to see Nero’s sword slamming into Mary’s cutlass. The short Rider was sent flying to the opposite end of the deck, with the Emperor of Roses refusing to let up on her latest barrage of attacks. Mash turned back to face her own opponent once more.

“Damn it, that should have worked!” Anne growled angrily. Mash didn’t bother replying, focused instead on finishing the fight once and for all.

Anne managed to only fire off one more shot before Mash closed the gap. Angling her shield once more, the Demi-Servant managed to redirect the bullet into Anne’s stomach, further injuring the taller Servant. As Anne recoiled, Mash jumped into the air, diving down at the Rider shield first, the boss of it aimed directly for her face.

With a sickening _crack_ , Mash’s shield slammed into Anne’s face, and from the sounds of it, broke her nose. Rolling to the side and therefore ducking under a clumsy swing of the musket, Mash saw that blood was starting to flow out of a now-crooked nose. Anne glared at Mash balefully.

“You’ll pay for that,” Anne said, any remnants of her earlier ‘good’ humor now truly gone. She raised her musket in a reverse grip, holding the gun overhead, intent on trying to bash Mash’s skull open. However, as she did so, Mash noticed a very crucial mistake Anne had made.

She didn’t seem to have a way to block any blows aimed at her lower half. Mash gave out a shout, charging forward and slamming her shield into Anne’s midriff. This time, it was the blonde whose air was driven out of her lungs. The musket slid out of limp hands, and Mash swung again and again, before finally, with a disgusting squishing sound, one of the ends of her shield managed to break through Anne’s skin and clothing. While she couldn’t tell if she had managed to destroy any internal organs, her sense of intuition was telling her that she had fatally damaged Anne’s Saint Graph.

At the same time, Mash heard the familiar but still sickening sound of metal being pushed through flesh and fabric. Risking a moment’s glance, she confirmed what she had suspected, as Nero solemnly withdrew her sword from Mary’s chest and leapt backwards. The Emperor of Roses looked confidant in victory, but Mash noticed that she wasn’t letting her guard down, much as the Demi-Servant was also doing.

It appeared to be unnecessary, as the previously-injured enemy Servants stumbled over towards one another, looking quite dejectedly at one another, as the signature cloud of golden dust began to glimmer around them, indicating that neither had much longer to be in this world.

“Damn, looks like we fell short, Anne,” Mary said rather morosely, her cutlass gone. Mash watched silently as the shorter member of the defeated duo looked over her shoulder at a disappointed-looking Blackbeard. “Sorry about that, Captain,” she added, though to Mash it seemed to have been a half-hearted apology at best.

Swaying back and forth slightly as she clutched the gut wound from Mash’s deflection, Anne also turned to look at their apparent Master, even as she began fading out of existence. “Captain, please don’t get depressed or anything just because we’re both gone. Being a victor is honestly all that you’re worth. If you lose, we’ll be the ones who end up looking like fools.”

With those final, and rather barbed, words, the fearsome duo vanished dissolving, returning once more to the Throne of Heroes. Mash felt a surge of exhilaration. She had won!

* * *

Ritsuka watched as the two female Servants finished dissolving, and his own two female Servants stood firmly, perhaps even basking briefly in their shared victory.

However, as he heard Drake cocking both of her pistols as she stood next to him, Ritsuka was reminded that the battle wasn’t finished just yet. He looked up to see an aggravated Blackbeard stomping towards them. From the side, one of Drake’s crewmates charged at the…unique…Servant, making ready to thrust forth with a blood-coated cutlass.

Without batting an eye or slowing down, Blackbeard lashed out with his left hand. Ritsuka almost threw up as he watched the claw attachment on said arm grabbing and then ripping out the front of the pirate’s throat. A horrendous, choked gurgling sound escaped from the dying man’s lips, while next to him Drake’s teeth were grinding loudly and angrily.

“You’ll regret that, bastard!” She hissed, bristling fully. Blackbeard, of course, ignored her, once more raising the unspoken question of whether he or Astolfo had more sanity compared to the other. Blackbeard made a _tutting_ sound as he looked down and to the side.

“Damn, that’s a disappointment, right there,” the Rider said sadly, looking at the spot where Mary and Anne had last been standing. Shaking his head softly, the pirate captain then looked up, and Ritsuka could see a fearsome and excited gleam in the Servant’s black eyes. Mash and Nero quickly re-positioned themselves in front of their Master, while Drake aimed both of her pistols at her nemesis, her face a mask of cold fury.

“Mmph! ‘Then, Blackbeard’s beard began to shine like gold, or silver, or burning red, as he rose like a phoenix’!” Blackbeard paused in his apparent self-narration, before shrugging haphazardly. “At least, emotionally!”

“Ugh,” Mash groaned in front of him. “This is so discouraging,” the Demi-Servant lamented. Even Nero seemed a little put-out for once, and wasn’t that an ominous sign! He reached out with one hand and gently clasped the left shoulder of his kouhai.

“Don’t give up, Mash. Just hang in there,” Ritsuka said softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. Unfortunately, it was extremely difficult this time. Unlike the normal result that such an action would have on Mash, she just slumped a little more.

“Master, even you are starting to sound unmotivational,” Mash said apologetically. Still, the Japanese Magus couldn’t help but flinch at those words, and he retracted his hand, all while Blackbeard continued his confusing tangent.

“Back against the wall, all is vanity! Glory to the Sutra! However!” The Rider shouted suddenly, striking what seemed to have been some sort of heroic pose. “I hate to brag, but this Blackbeard never even thought he could lose!” Blackbeard said, sounding rather happy to be bragging about that. Also, please, if there is a god watching Ritsuka and his friends, let there be only one Blackbeard. Drake groaned loudly, pushing herself forward.

“Oh, look who’s talking, you ugly swine!” She paused, crouching down slightly with a feral and bloodthirsty sneer on her lips. “Now this finally feels like a death-match! You and I, we’re the same. A pair of heartless scoundrels who live our lives taking or saving lives! The loser is scum and the winner is justice!”

“I think we all know who the scum is in this case,” Ritsuka said dryly, channeling some of the dry wit of his fellow Master. As he did so, he briefly wondered if Jacob was okay, before dismissing the though. The American would have chided Ritsuka for getting distracted in the middle of a fight. Besides, he had Mordred, Jeanne, and Sasaki nearby to help him out, not to mention however many of Drake’s pirates to boot.

His words caused Drake to release a bark of laughter, though it was of the humorless variety. “Indeed! In that case, I’ll trample you, Blackbeard, with my demonic heel!” Rather than be angered by the insults, however, Blackbeard let out a rather sickening sound of adoration.

“Aw,” he cooed in a sing-song tone of voice. “You’re acting pretty cool now, for a scarred, old hag. If I was a woman” Ritsuka almost threw up at the horrific mental image those words had conjured, “I’m sure right now there’d be romantic BGM playing, with an event CG where I start stripping.” Mash and Nero joined him in gagging violently. “It would be such a bother to create backups and programming for that, though…”

While he couldn’t see Drake’s expression, it would have been almost impossible to note the utter lack of amusement in her voice as she replied. “I seriously don’t understand what you are saying at all.”

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” Mash and Ritsuka said in unison, and he shared a quick smile with his loyal and dependable kouhai. “Nor do you need to. I guarantee you that you’ll never have a need for that knowledge,” Mash added, readying herself once more for combat. Blackbeard shrugged carelessly once again.

“Well, anyway!” He shouted, his free hand pulling off his coat. Ritsuka felt a pang of jealously as he got a full view of Blackbeard’s muscular physic and was making him feel a bit self-conscious about his own. Course, reminding himself that the Servant was more than a little off kilter was more than enough to banish the feeling. “Let’s have our final showdown then, old hag!” Drake scoffed, and Ritsuka caught a brief glimpse of a rather crooked sneer on her lips.

“Insult me as much as you want. Now that I can punch and shoot you in the face, I’ll laugh at your ‘jokes’. When I finish with you, not even your mom could recognize you!” Drake taunted, sounding more like her devil-may-care self, before looking her shoulder at Ritsuka and his two Servants. “Mash, Ritsuka, Nero! Let’s finish this, once and for all!”

“I’m on it! Orders, Master?” Ritsuka nodded, staring ahead sternly as he raised his hand that bore the trio of red markings which denoted his status as a Master of Chaldea.

“Defeat Blackbeard and retrieve the Grail!”

* * *

Even in the air, and at least a few good miles away from the others, Astolfo could still faintly hear the sounds of a pitched battle below. The Rider felt a pang of disappointment about his current task. Not because he felt it wasn’t important. Nor because he longed for the thrill of fighting like some Servant, such as the former Saber of Red.

No, rather, it was because if something went wrong, and short of Jacob using a Command Seal to bring the paladin to his side, he would most likely be unable to intervene in time to assist. And unlike the plucky homunculus he had befriended named Sieg, neither Jacob nor Ritsuka had the ability to transform into a Servant like his former Master and friend had done.

Still, Astolfo had been given an equally-important task, and though the conditions weren’t right for his sanity to be fully restored yet, he would take the duty entrusted to him by his current Master and fulfill it to the letter.

Or, so to speak.

Lost in his musings, the pink-haired Rider was brough back into the present moment by a loud, urgent-sounding squawk from his faithful winged mount. “Hey, what is it buddy?” Astolfo asked softly, rubbing his free hand up and down the hippogryph’s neck soothingly. Then his eyes widened.

There was a ship slowly approaching the interlocked _Golden Hind_ and the _Queen Anne’s Revenge_. Unlike the other two, the ship looked to be more like a…darn it, what was the word? Rowboat? No, that’s too small…

Well, the word didn’t exactly matter at the moment. What did matter was finding out just who was manning the vessel, if there were any Servants on board, and whether they were potentially friend or foe.

Astolfo petted his companion before urging it downwards, towards the unknown newcomer. “Good eyes. Come on, let’s take a closer look. Call me crazy,” he ignored the deadpan gaze of his winged mount, “but I’m getting a bad feeling about this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done! What did you guys and gals think? Good/decent fight scenes? I honeslty had some trouble figuring out how to set up Chapter 68 and 69, so I want to know if it went well. Also, Anne and Mary...interesting Servants in game, hellish to write for fighting scenes! I know that techincally they are actually a single Servant, but here I decided to make them two different Servants, though ones who when combined experience a power-up in abilities and skills if that makes sense? Also, Mash, why couldn't you have a sword to use? Would be easier to write in terms of defeating/killing Servants as oppose to trying to bludgeon them to death! Finally, looks like the armor works! Totally didn't let Jacob take a wallop to demonstrate the armor's effectivness...
> 
> Also, how did I do with writing Astolfo's POV?
> 
> Next chapter we get to see more fighting! We're also somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way done with the Third Singularity! In the next few chapters, I will be making an announcement in the end notes about the next singularity, so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> Next chapter might be four or five days away instead of the normal three. IRL stuff has been really burning me out recently, and I'm trying to not let it affect my story writing too much, ya know?
> 
> Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: who are you most and least favorite Berserkers?  
> Second question: How long/many turns did it take you to defeat Kiara for the CCC event, and what was your team setup? Mine was Mordred, Jalter, Eli-Chan, Mash, and Jalter Berserker, with a maxed-up Nero (Bride) as support, in twenty-two turns.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and all the support you have given me, be it through kudos, subscribing, bookmarking, commenting, or even just reading more than the first few chapters! Can't wait to hear/read what y'all thought of Chapter 68, and I hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful rest of the day, and see y'all in the next chapter!


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